Don't Trip
by Mischievous Gleek
Summary: Kurt Hummel has one motto in life - Don't Trip. A tale of a boy struggling to become a man in an ever 'changing' environment. AU, multiple pairings of both mixed and same sex including Klaine, Puckurt and others. May also include themes such as MPREG.
1. Prologue

**This story and title was inspired from Chris Colfer -**

**When asked what his personal life motto was during the Struck By Lightning Q&A, he responded, and I quote, 'Don't Trip'.**

**Advanced notice that this story will be long and as it holds a special place in my heart, it will take longer than usual to get chapters out, my perfectionist side simply won't let me pump the out at normal speed.**

**I thought long and hard about publishing this at all, but after the fantastic reception and reviews of my previous stories, I've decided to bite the bullet and wear my heart on my sleeve with this one.**

**That being said, I encourage you all to _Please Review!_ And review honestly, if you think it's a pile of crap, please tell me so I don't embarrass myself any further.**

**This story will be completely AU, but I will be drawing on canon events to help make it flow.**

**Spoilers - lets just say all aired episodes to be safe.**

**Warnings - Rated M for language and supernatural/fantasy themes at this stage, but will contain multiple pairings of both same and mixed genders. Also, undecided at this stage, but may contain themes such as MPREG. If that's not your cup of tea, than don't read.**

**Please note, language is written in Australian/British English.**

**A heads up, this story will be switching back and forth between times and places, I'll try my best to keep it as readable as possible, but if you find that it makes no sense I implore you to please let me know so I can fix it!**

**I've not seen this story done before, so if it sounds similar to another, it is not intentional.**

**Disclaimer - I don't own Glee or it's character's, I'm just borrowing them for my own personal amusement.**

**Kurt Hummel's life motto is Don't Trip. A tale of a boys struggle to become a man in an ever 'changing' environment.**

_**Re-loaded as now beta'd by the lovely - **_**Brellegenana**

I only have one motto in life - Don't Trip. It might sound like I'm exceptionally clumsy or have a fear of public humiliation, but it's so much more than that.

I guess I should start at the beginning... _'what a very good place to start.' _Yes, I'm corny like that - deal with it. Anyway, this is a weird arse tale, so you better be ready for it.

First thing you should know is that this world, well, it's not all it seems. Apparently, it all comes down to science, or religion depending on what you believe, but I am so not going into that debate thank you very much Father Flannigan.

There is this genetic anomaly that occurs, it's incredibly rare so don't panic, you probably don't have it. I'm no science geek, so I don't really pay attention when they talk about it. But basically, our DNA doesn't just look like that swirly thing... there's a little arm thing that grows out of it, so yes, I guess you could call us mutants.

This mutation is sort of there from birth, but it needs a catalyst to really make it come out, and it has to happen after puberty. Yeah, I didn't really get that part either. But the catalyst has to be a life threatening event. For me, I tried to commit suicide. I guess that's why I'm so bitter about all of this... because I literally did it to myself. It may never have come out if I didn't.

Yes. I'm gay. No doubt most of you have recoiled in horror now. But, I am who I am and I'm not apologizing for that. Not anymore. So for those who have more than a few brain cells have probably worked out, that was why I tried to kill myself. Not because I thought I was a monster or a sin against nature (thank you again Father Flannigan) but because I was tired. I was tired of being alone. I was tired of the looks, the words and of course the violence.

But after all that has happened and everything I've seen, I just don't care anymore. If you want to think I'm a freak, go ahead, but I guarantee you that what I'm about to tell you is more deserving of that than the fact that I like cock.

So this mutant gene, once it's been activated, it allows us to develop, I guess you would say extra abilities. A few minor things we have in common, like the ability to heal really freaking quickly and a minor amount of pre-cognizance. But the main ability is always different. Mine, well mine is what they call 'Universality'.

What that means is that I travel between universes. Yes, there is more than one. It's almost like a parallel universe, that's the best way for me to describe them. How do I travel between them you might ask? Well, I quite literally fall into them. So like I said - Don't. Trip.

My name is Kurt Hummel, please raise your tray tables and put your seats in the upright position, because I'm about to blow your fucking mind.

**Love it? Hate it? Review and let me know why!**

**Mischievous Gleek**


	2. Shattered

**IMPORTANT - _PLEASE READ WARNINGS BEFORE CONTINUING_**

**This is the first official chapter for this story. I apologize for the lengthy wait, but I continue to warn you to expect long delays between chapters, I can't guarantee to pump them out quickly.**

**First -This story is still currently un-beta'd. I am looking for a Beta and have made inquiries. Once I have one confirmed, the chapters will be re-loaded if there are changes made. In the mean time, I apologize for any mistakes I may have made.**

**Second - This chapter was exceptionally difficult to write. It features Kurt and Burt and I will warn you now, they are completely OOC.**

**Writing this about Kurt was physically painful for me, but very, very necessary for the story to work. (I promise you, I hope that this never ever happens to Kurt, Chris or any other person, regardless of the reason)**

**WARNINGS:**** This chapter has VERY dark themes of abuse, assault and suicide attempts. Mentions self-harming and eating disorders. It also features strong language and sexual references (not rape). **If these themes are two much for you, I suggest you not read.****

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or it's characters, I'm just borrowing them for my own amusement (not that I find the content of this chapter amusing.)**

**Awfully long A/N to go with an awfully long chapter. Hope you enjoy.**

**This chapter takes you back to how it all began, please be patient, the meat of the story is coming, but you need to take the journey to get there.**

_**RE-LOADED WITH **_**MAJOR_ CHANGES WITH MANY, MANY THANKS TO MY LOVELY BETA _**_**-**_**Brellegenana**

**I hope you all enjoy the revised chapter!**

**6 Months Earlier**

Kurt held his breath and closed his eyes as he felt himself in the familiar free-fall into the dark, cavernous, rank pit otherwise known as McKinley High cafeteria dumpster. The wind was knocked out of him with a slight yelp of pain as he landed awkwardly on his back, something solid digging into his already bruised kidneys. Kurt kept his eyes closed has he tried to get his breath back, focusing on only breathing through his mouth and purposely not thinking of exactly _what_ he may be laying in. After a few moments, he opened his eyes, squinting against the sunlight pouring through the container, right at that moment a red and white jacketed senior threw his bag onto his head, its contents spilling out into the rancid mess of day old food scraps. Tentatively touch above his right eye where one of the buckles of his bag had hit, he winced and pulled his hand away to see blood. _Fabulous, another wound and another bruise_ he thought.

Kurt lay there waiting until he could no longer hear any voices from outside. When he was sure he was alone and probably only minutes from the late bell, he gingerly moved each limb to make sure there were no serious injuries. Taking his time, he sat up, head swimming and stomach turning as he caught a whiff of what smelt like two day old Tuna Surprise. He'd become something of a connoisseur when it came to the cafeteria dumpster. _I'll take Rancid Food Stains and Odours for $500 thanks Bob _Kurt thought dejectedly as accidentally put his hand into a pile of what he was sincerely hoping was old mustard.

Discerning that he had no broken bones, he attempted to gather all his belongings as best he could. Tossing the bag over the edge of the dumpster, he stepped onto the ridge half way up and threw his hands up to curl around the edge. Ignoring the twinges of pain as his sore shoulder protested he hoisted himself up so he was lying across the edge, scrabbling side-ways, he rolled over and hung from his fingertips for a few seconds before he let go and collapsed on the ground, the ankle he'd sprained the other day giving way on him.

Giving himself the once over now that he could see better, Kurt picked himself up off the ground and peeled old lettuce from his jacket. Snatching up his bag, he hobbled over to the doors of the school, as he started to climb the stairs, the geometry teacher hurried past him, nose wrinkling slightly at the less than attractive odour permeating off him. Kurt didn't even bother rolling his eyes or getting upset anymore. He had, for all intents and purposes, become invisible at this school – well, except from his tormentors of course.

With a mental sigh, Kurt hobbled towards his locker to grab another set of clothes. He used to just carry a set in his bag, but after his tormentors had escalated to destroying it at least three times a week, he started keeping them in his locker. Of course, they weren't always safe there, what with the constant vandalism, so he would keep a few sets in his car too. Between both places he was usually able to find something to wear.

Reaching the bathroom, Kurt checked to make sure he was alone and then locked the door. Peeling off his clothes he inspected them and found multiple stains. At least he didn't care too much about these clothes. He long ago gave up his penchant for high end fashion. After the first six months of high school and having practically his entire wardrobe ruined, Kurt resorted to Target. He stuck with long baggy clothes so that his injuries wouldn't be aggravated or on display.

Grabbing some coarse paper towels and wetting them, Kurt cleaned himself up as best he could. Using generic deodorant to try and over power the stench of garbage. Kurt then turned his attention to his head, rinsing out his hair with cold water and quickly running a brush through it. He never bothered trying to clean himself up with shampoo or soap any more, he knew it was a waste of time, he would just ended up covered in something else later on during the day. The record currently stood at three dumpster dives, four slushies and a bowl of beef ragout thrown in his face.

He cleaned the cut above his eye and was thankful that at least he didn't require stitches this time. Getting dressed in a pair of grey sweats and dark blue hoodie, he tied the laces on his sneakers and put all the filthy clothes in a bag to take home. Checking the time to see he only had 10 minutes until second period, Kurt stepped out into the hall and quickly walked in the direction of his second period French class, deciding to pass the time in the alcove hidden under the stairs near the room.

Kurt had lots of hiding places around the school, he was never found by any of the jocks who'd made it their mission to keep him miserable, and he was miserable. Kurt couldn't remember the last time he spoke to anyone. He gave up on fighting back verbally with the jocks, hell; he just gave up fighting back period, as it only made things worse. He wasn't called on in class, he had no friends, and he didn't even speak to his father anymore. In fact, the last time he'd seen his father face to face was about 3 months ago.

He didn't think his father hated him, or at least he hoped, but their lives just passed by each other. Kurt spent more and more time locked away in his room, not willing to let his father see the bruises and injuries. His father, for his part, spent more time at work or anywhere that just wasn't at home. Kurt knew it was hard for his father to be in that house, surrounded by memories when his wife only passed away nearly three years ago. But Kurt lost his mother, and for that, Kurt felt resentment to his father. Kurt needed him, and he was just never there.

As Kurt sat huddled on the cold concrete floor under the stairs trying to get comfortable, his left shoulder still in pain from where the jocks had dislocated it three days ago. Kurt couldn't help but reminisce to the time before his mother had died. She had died just before he started 8th grade in a car accident caused by some drunken college student. It was that summer that changed his entire life. Before she had died, Elizabeth Hummel was Kurt's greatest source of pleasure, everything a boy could ask for in a mother. She was kind and funny, strict when she needed to be, but kept their house full of life, love and music.

She was a singing and piano teacher, working from home. It was through her that Kurt had made a lot of his friends during his childhood. Rachel Berry was a near constant presence in their home, as was, surprisingly, Noah Puckerman. While these two where in his class at school, outside of the Hummel home, he didn't actually have much to do with them. After her death, he never spoke to them again.

That summer, he had also made the biggest mistake of his life. He came out. His mother had hugged and kissed him, telling him that she had already known, which had astounded Kurt because he'd only just figured it out himself that he didn't like girls the way all the other boys did. His father had just smiled and given him a hug. Kurt had thought that meant that he didn't care; now he's not so sure. He also told his best friend, Jonah Davis, sworn to secrecy in the tree house his father had built him when he was seven, over the sacred spit, slap, and click of their secret handshake. Never would he have believed that his best friend would have told everyone on the first day back at school.

It started with shoves and name calling, it escalated to punches and vandalism. The first day that he went home limping with a split lip and trying to hold his ripped bag together, he met his father in the kitchen and sobbed the whole story out. His father, not known for being able to show support in emotional times, had awkwardly patted his back and told him to keep his chin up.

"Friends like that aren't real friends at all Kurt."

_No shit Sherlock_, Kurt didn't even try to interject that they were not his friends to begin with. It was the start of everything. He never told his father anything that happened after that. Kurt became quite adept at covering bruises. He would lie about tripping to cover any cuts he came home with. He didn't bother going to the faculty, if his own father was turning a blind eye, what hope did he have that the school would be any different.

People stopped talking to him, afraid to catch the gay or be beaten by association. Kurt tried to keep his chin up, he really did, but by halfway through his freshman year of high school, he just gave up. The bullies where bigger now, stronger, and had found new forms to inflict terror and pain. It was at this point that Kurt withdrew from the world; he became a shell that that walked around, attending classes and was subjected to constant torment.

The bell rung, pulling Kurt out of daze, he huddled in closer on himself and waited for the noise of stampeding students to pass before slipping into the classroom and taking his seat at the last second.

For the rest of the day, Kurt tried to make himself small and invisible to the jocks. He would be the last to walk into the classroom and the first to leave it, hurrying to one of his many hiding places to wait so he could move a little freer to the next class. Lunch was spent in his usual spot, hiding under the bench in the audio control booth of the auditorium. He didn't eat, he never ate. Even if he could summon the desire to eat, the beatings that he takes to his stomach make it nearly impossible to keep food down.

At the end of the day, Kurt would retreat quickly to the nearly always empty library. The jocks never went in there after school. Kurt would hide in one of the rarely used corners at the back, between the stacks that held the 30 year old encyclopedias. He would sit there until the library closed at 5 p.m., doing whatever homework he had or sometimes he would just read the out of date encyclopedias, hoping that all the practices had long been over with for the day.

Leaving the library and walking to his locker to dump his books, Kurt thought that the day had not been so bad. After the ritual morning dumpster toss, he'd only been shoved into a locker once and slushied twice. It was as he neared his locker that he changed his mind. The locker had been jimmied open and spray painted with the word 'fag' over the door. Inside, they had sprayed all his belongs with a deep purple. They'd also been a little more creative this time and placed a neon blue dildo inside with a note taped to it 'enjoy, cock sucker'.

_I wonder if should send them a thank you note _Kurt thought sarcastically with a grim smile. It wasn't the first object that had ever been left for him; he'd received cock rings, vibrators, butt plugs and ball gags before and once, even a pair of rainbow coloured fluffy handcuffs. With a sigh, Kurt stuffed everything into his bag and dragged it behind him with some difficulty. realizing he'd missed the last bus; Kurt tried to not groan at the knowledge that he now had a 3 mile walk home.

Since his mother's death, Kurt had stopped everything to do with music. He stopped singing and playing the piano, he threw out his stereo and disabled the kitchen radio. He had also boxed up his collection of musicals and Disney movies and put them up in the spare room next to his mother's belongings that his Dad couldn't bear to throw away.

As such, Kurt would pass the time by reciting multiplication in his head. He'd already mastered the art of dividing, and addition and subtraction posed no challenge for him. He'd also pretty much mastered the art of multiplication as well, but at least it was still something to pass the time. _6250 x 250 =1,562,500, 6250 x 251 = 1,568,750_ by the time Kurt had gotten up to 6250 x 364 (2,275,000) he'd reached his street.

As he approached his house it became clear that something was very wrong. An acrid black smoke was rising from the lawn, getting closer; Kurt saw that the jocks had really upped the ante this time. Across the lawn it appeared as though many unoriginal slurs had been created using sulphur or something, _Fag, Donut Puncher, Cock Sucker, Arse Slut, Homo_ to name just a few.

For the first time in ages, Kurt saw red. He was used to this at school, but never had they brought it to his home before. He got a few anonymous phone calls, but they'd never vandalized his home. Whirling around in despair and anger, Kurt found himself face to face with 5 of the worst offenders – Karofsky, Azimio, Larganthaal, Saunders and Browning. He knew what was coming; he should have known they would stick around, if only to see his reaction to the lawn.

Standing his ground and tilting his chin up a little, Kurt did something he hadn't done in a year.

"WHAT the _fuck_ is you're problem?" Kurt screamed.

"Are you _talking _to _US_?" Azimio questioned as they circled around the smaller boy.

"Fudge-packers have no _right_ to talk to normal people" Karofsky sneered.

Kurt opened his mouth to retort but never got the opportunity to speak. Largenthaal and Saunders tackled and grabbed both his arms, twisting them in their sockets so far Kurt was sure they would dislocate both shoulders this time. Karofsky spat on his face while Azimio threw the first solid punch to his stomach, Browning grabbed his hair and pulled his head back so it was staring straight up at the almost completely black sky.

Browning's arm came across his neck in a choke hold nearly severing his air supply while keeping his head firmly pulled back. Largenthaal and Saunders, still pinning his arms painfully behind him also started to throw fierce kicks at his calves and ankles. Barely able to stand or breathe, Kurt did the only thing he could. He started multiplying. _6250 x 365 = 2,281,350, 3250 x 366 = 2,287,500..._

With his brain occupied, Kurt detached himself from what was happening. He didn't acknowledge the fists or feet that rained across his body. He closed his eyes when his head was jerked forwards still reciting the sums in his head while a fist smashed his nose. The blood was pooling down his face as the hits kept coming, and still Kurt recited his multiplications. 3250 x 424 = 1,378,00.

He didn't even notice as his tormentors dropped him and started to back away. It was only when he felt a hand grab his crotch in a tight squeeze, palming him roughly, and someone biting his lip, drawing blood and then licking into his mouth with a moan, that Kurt became aware of what was happening. Opening his eyes to stare with cold hatred at his attacker, he saw Karofsky staring back at him with lust darkened eyes, and he heard the words 'tell anyone and you are dead.' Palming Kurt one more time, Karofsky then stomped on his wrist, snapping it, before walking away to catch up with the others.

As Kurt lay there on the grass, the dark night sky above him, he was only sure of one thing. Karofsky was gay. He couldn't tell you if he laid there for five minutes or five hours, he couldn't tell you if the hitched breaths where because of the pain or because of the anger and he couldn't tell you if he were quietly whimpering or openly sobbing. The only thing he could say for certain, is that Karofsky is gay. And that son-of-a-bitch was literally making his life a living hell for something that he was himself.

Kurt eventually pulled himself up, cradling his broken wrist against his chest, he grabbed the strap of his bag and tried to walk to the house. His battered legs made it difficult, he was also pretty sure they had broken some ribs this time too as he continued to wheeze painfully. He shut the door behind, remembering to flick the catch on the lock and dumped his bag on the floor at the door. Not his usual practice, but he quite literally couldn't hold it anymore.

He fell against the door, letting it support him. He could feel his eyes swelling and was sure that within an hour they would have puffed up enough so he wouldn't be able to see. He wanted a shower. He wanted his bed. And most of all, he wanted his mother. He eyed the stairs which led up to his bedroom, he knew he wouldn't be getting up them. He was half tempted to just collapse where he was, but he knew then his father would find him.

The thought of his father was enough to cause a spark of rage within him. Once again, he needed his father, and he just wasn't here. He stayed away to let his son be almost beaten to death and sexually assaulted on their front lawn. The memory of Karofsky's hands and lips on him made Kurt retch. If he actually had anything in his stomach, it would be sitting on the doorstep right now.

Without conscious thought, Kurt made his way to the bathroom on the ground floor. He felt _dirty_. He wanted to erase the memories of what Karofsky had said and done. When he reached the bathroom, he didn't even look into the mirror; he knew he wouldn't like what he saw. Instead, he turned the hot water tap on and waited until it was scolding hot. Grabbing one of the spare toothbrushes that were kept there, Kurt began to feverishly brush his teeth. He brushed his teeth three times, scrubbing viciously; hard enough that his gums started to bleed.

It wasn't enough, shucking his clothes off and leaving them on the floor, he would burn them later he resolved, Kurt stepped into a scalding hot shower and scrubbed his body several times, not caring that his aching body and broken wrist screamed in protestation. He washed his hair and scrubbed his skin until he was red raw from the heat and force of his bathing. As the water turned cold he stepped out and stood in front of the mirror. Wiping away the fog, he finally glanced at his reflection for the first time and let out a gasp.

He couldn't recognize himself. There were dark bruises forming, adding to the older ones, all over his torso and neck. His legs held perfect footprints of bruises and his wrists had individual handprint bruises. The broken wrist was at an odd angle, screaming with pain at him now. He had lumps forming on his jaw and his nose was most definitely broken, eyes black and swelling shut.

But all that he had expected, what shocked him was that he couldn't see _himself_ in the reflection. The parts of his eyes that he could see where a flat dull grey, gone the sparkling mix of blues and greens, they looked lifeless. He'd lost so much weight that he was all bones and angles, farewell the lithe dancers body he once had even as a preteen.

He couldn't stand to see himself like this. Grabbing the clothes he'd left on the floor, he quickly pulled them back on, trying to cover up the battered body. Catching his reflection again, Kurt couldn't stop the tears from spilling over, tears of hurt, tears of pain, and tears of heart break. Staring at himself, he realised that it was no longer just his body or his heart that was broken, but so was his soul.

_A soul_, he thought to himself, _a person is not a person without a soul_. They had taken it, with everything else they'd done; they had finally taken the very last thing he could cling too. With a scream of frustration, Kurt threw the fist of his un-broken arm into the mirror, cracking it in radiating spirals like a spider-web. _That's me_ he thought dejectedly, _they've shattered me beyond repair_.

With hard fury blazing in his eyes, Kurt picked up the toothpaste. Squirting some on his finger, he smeared it on the mirror, writing just two words, _Fuck This_. With that he picked up a razor out of the cupboard and with a final glare at himself in the mirror, he cut two long stripes up the insides of his wrists, the line on the right wrist more of a squiggle because of his broken wrist. As he watched the blood start to pour out, he let himself collapse onto the bathroom floor. _They can't take this from me now_ was his last conscious thought.

* * *

><p>Burt Hummel had his head resting in the palm of his hand; the other was currently clasped tightly around the smaller one of his son's, silent tears tracking down his stubbled face. The often present baseball cap was not in its usual perch on his head and he was still wearing the grease-covered overalls that he had on when he left the garage in a hurry three days prior.<p>

He'd received an anxious phone call from his neighbour saying that she was sure she had seen his son lying as still as death on the front lawn when she had returned home from work. She thought she had seen five large boys walking away from the house as she drove down the street. When she had parked her car and raced over to where the boy had been, all she found was blood on the defaced lawn.

She had immediately called through to the garage and explained through anxious gasps of breaths what she had seen. She then informed him she would call the police, even if it was only regarding the vandalism to his lawn, but by that time, Burt Hummel had already flung the phone down and was racing his truck home, terrified by what he may find.

He took small comfort as he drove, thinking that if Kurt had been able to get inside then he wasn't so badly hurt. He cursed the rush hour traffic that turned the usual 15 minute drive into closer to half an hour. Parking his truck across the driveway, he wrenched the keys out and almost knocked himself out when he tried to run through the front door. _Of course Kurt would lock_ he thought as he fumbled for his keys.

Getting inside and nearly breaking his neck when he tripped over Kurt's school bag, Burt felt his heart clench, Kurt never dumped it at the front door. "K-Kurt?" Burt stuttered out as he raced upstairs to check Kurt's room, as that was where his son spent most of his time. He wasn't in his room or in Burt's, nor was he in the spare room where they kept all his mother's belonging and he wasn't in the bathroom upstairs.

Running out of ideas of where his son would usually go, Burt raced back down stairs and searched there. He didn't find him in the kitchen or living room, nor was he in the garage. Thinking he would check out the back, he paused and opened the downstairs bathroom and felt the world collapse around him. With a sob, he had fallen to the floor where his son lay, pooled in his own blood, he took in the words written across the smashed mirror and clutched at his boy with heart-wrenching sobs. Grabbing the towel on the floor and pressing them to the self-inflicted cuts, he tried to keep pressure on both wounds as he was sobbing, calling for his son to wake up.

He didn't remember hearing the police enter the still open front door. He couldn't feel when one of the officers grabbed his shoulder trying to get his attention. But he certainly noticed when the young female officer tried to pull him away from his son. He fought and he fought hard, he couldn't let go of his boy. It took both officers to bodily haul him off the prone boy, the female officer was trying to talk to him, asking his name and his sons name. Burt could only respond in sobs of 'not my son, not my boy!'

He had watched as the other officer had taken over his position trying to resuscitate his child. He felt the woman try to move out of the way, still talking to him. Suddenly the tiny bathroom was filled with people as paramedics arrived. Burt watched as both officers led him out of the room, the paramedics working efficiently as the first resumed resuscitation and the other wrapped pressure bandages around the cuts.

Burt heard the words 'lots of blood, broken nose and wrist, strangulation' among others. They fuelled Burt's fury that people could do this too his child, wanting nothing more than to hunt the bastards down and destroy them little by little. But first, he had to make sure his son was okay. The paramedics had placed Kurt on a stretcher and wheeled him out of the house, one of them still desperately trying to pump life back into the small body.

Burt felt himself being bundled up into the back of the police car. With sirens blaring on both emergency vehicles they reached the Lima Memorial Hospital within minutes. Kurt was ushered straight through the emergency room, doctors and paramedics speaking a language he couldn't understand. He fought to follow his son into the ER room, but was forcibly restrained by a security guard and the two police officers.

He had waited, four hours that passed by the slowest he had ever known. He was a catatonic mess until a young nurse came out half an hour after Kurt had first disappeared through the doors, speaking the words that Burt clang to in fierce hope.

"They've managed to revive him and keep him breathing through a machine. It's been touch and go, he's lost a lot of blood and there is some severe damage caused by the cuts. They are doing everything that they can, but, at this stage, the prognosis is uncertain."

Taking her leave, Burt was able to raise his head and watch her go, finally taking in his surroundings and the situation to full extent. Sobbing, he looked to the two officers who were still seated beside him.

"Why? Why would he do that? Why? My boy! He's the only thing I have left!"

The female officers was quick to place a hand on his shoulder and try to offer comfort, confirming the nurse words that the doctors were doing everything that they could. The male officer returned with a strong cup of black coffee, handing it to the broken man. Once slightly calmer and the coffee finished, they took his statement, asking for any small detail that he could remember, promising that they would start an investigation into the vandalism and the alleged, at this stage, assault.

The older male officer left to return the Hummel's home to cordon off the crime scene and start the initial investigation. The female officer waited with Burt, needing the doctor's report to confirm that there was an assault so that they could add that to the investigation.

Three hours later and a female doctor wearing blood covered scrubs, _Kurt's blood_, came out and requested a short moment with the officer. Burt watched frantically as they walked down the hall out of sight. He was desperate for news, why wouldn't the Doctor give it to him? Why did she need to speak to the police first? He was Kurt's father; surely he should have been the first to know anything. Just as he'd made up his mind to follow them and demand an explanation the pair of women returned back to his side. The officer had a note-pad out and was writing something down as the Doctor sat down next to him and introduced herself.

"Mr Hummel, my name is Doctor Pearse…"

"What's happened? Where is Kurt? Is he okay? Can I see him?"

"Calm down Mr Hummel, your son Kurt is still alive. As the nurse probably explained, there were a lot of complications. At the moment, your son is in a critical but stable condition."

Burt listened as the Dr Pearse explained Kurt's various injuries, his heart thumping wildly as he heard the torture that his son had been put through. Through the medical jargon, he understood that Kurt had had his windpipe nearly crushed, severe internal damage to his stomach from the blows he'd received. Both shoulders had damage and the marks on his arms suggested that two people had held him while at least two others had beaten him. His legs had muscular damage from where it appeared someone had been kicking him in the calves and finally a shattered left wrist, probably from someone stomping on it.

Burt felt the bile rise in his throat as he listened, the female detective who had been taking notes during this discussion saw the colour drain from the man's face and quickly grabbed a nearby trash can and both doctor and officer watched as the normally strong man lost his stomach into it. The doctor quickly called a nurse for a glass of water and Burt rinsed his mouth gratefully. Staring up at the doctor with deadened eyes he asked if he could see his son now.

"Not yet. First we are keeping a close monitor on him for a while, to ensure that he doesn't go into cardiac arrest again. Once he is more stable then he will be moved to a private room."

With a quick glance at the officer, Doctor Pearse hesitated. While her instincts were screaming at her that the man before her was innocent and more than likely unaware, she had to follow up with the line of questioning as per procedure.

"Mr Hummel, your son Kurt, when he came in, he presented with older injuries, injuries that couldn't have been self-inflicted."

"What are you saying?"

"While being the most severe, this doesn't appear to be the first of your son's beatings."

The doctor watched as the man's eyes widened in horror at the implication of her words before she continued.

"There are some injuries as well as bruising and scars that look to be weeks old, some from perhaps even longer. I took the liberty to check your son's medical records, in the last two years; your son has visited many various ER's and clinics with wounds that required professional medical treatment. Next of Kin contact was made to yourself."

"What? No, never," Burt shook his head emphatically, "He would have told me if he had to go to the hospital, and no one ever contacted me about it. You must have the wrong file."

Burt watched as the doctor opened up the file to the first page showing patient contact information, under Next of Kin was 'Burt Hummel – Father' with a mobile number for contact.

"That's not my number. I don't even have a mobile phone. It's Kurt's number."

Shaking his head sadly, Burt stared at the doctor horrified. His son, his only flesh and blood needed **medical treatment _multiple_ times?** He was never there; he didn't even know what was happening with his son.

"Do you know where your son's phone would be?" asked the officer.

"Probably still at home with all his things. He'd dumped his bag at the front door. He _never_ does that."

Burt watched as the female officer pulled out her own phone and contacted her partner, requesting him to find the phone and confirm the number. After a few minutes, the officer nodded her head and wrote something down before turning back to the doctor.

"Okay, the phone number is Kurt's; Burt Hummel had never been contacted with any of the treatments."

"I just told you I didn't! What's – Why are you checking?"

"Mr Hummel, as I said before, Kurt has received multiple injuries over a sustained period of time. We are merely following the hospital procedure in this sort of event."

"Y-You think! You think _I _was the one hurting him? HE'S MY SON! I could _never_ do that! Why would you think that?"

"It's standard procedure Mr Hummel. Children who are often abused at home will go to great lengths to avoid confrontation between medical staff and their abuser. While it's clear that you were not aware of the medical attention as far as the hospital knows, we can't rule you out as a potential suspect just yet. I'm sorry," the doctor admitted. "But I can't allow you to see your son unsupervised at the moment. Not until you've been cleared by the police of any involvement."

"Mr Hummel," the officer interjected, "I am going to be working as fast as I can to clear you. I need to speak to anyone who can comment on your relationship with your son, neighbours, relatives, co-workers and the school administrators. But given the lateness of the hour, it's unlikely that we can clear you before morning."

"In the meantime, why don't you go get some rest? Your son won't be awake before morning, at the earliest; you can gather some belongings for him and get yourself cleaned up."

Burt shook his head frantically, "No, I can't – I can't leave him. Not again. What – what happened to him? Can you tell me?"

Doctor Pearse nodded her head and explained in a soft voice.

"Kurt's right shoulder was dislocated fairly recently, sometime within the last five days I would guess. He has a sprained ankle that will need to be looked at as I believe there may be ligament damage. His entire back is covered in dark bruises, and it appears that some may have been causing damage to his kidneys and liver. They will heal in time, but it was probably a significant factor in the internal bleeding.

"Your son is also severely malnourished. His BMI is dangerously low. He's dehydrated and his glucose levels are nearly non-existent. We have him on drip to try and get the much needed nutrients into him. But, we need to know, when did your son's eating habits change? Did you notice anything out of the ordinary?"

Burt slumped into his chair in defeat. He officially felt like the world's worst father. Thinking back, he tried to remember, but it was with shock that he realised he had not shared a meal with his son in nearly six months! Every night, after he got home, he would peek into his son's room to see him already asleep, satisfied in thinking that his boy was safe, he never pushed further. It was with heavy remorse that he realised he could not remember actually speaking to his son, or seeing him around the house apart from those nightly peeks.

"It's all my fault," he whispered dejectedly. "I, I never was around. I can't remember the last time I spoke to my son. But I swear, I saw him asleep in his bed every night!" he added frantically. "I thought – I thought he was _safe_!"

The doctor looked on in sympathy; it was not unusual to see teenagers hiding things from their parents, especially teens that were victims of assault.

"Mr Hummel, it's very common that teens who are self-harming don't confide in their parents or anyone."

"Wh-what do you mean self-harming? Oh God! He wasn't cutting himself was he?"

"No, I merely meant his eating habits. Until we can speak to him, we won't know the full situation, if he has an eating disorder or if it's something else. But quite often, there is an underlying factor as to _why_ it starts. Can you think of anything that may have caused it, or any other reason that your son may have gotten those injuries?"

Burt thought long and hard about his estranged son. He tried to piece together how he went from the happy child he once knew to this and tried to see where he had failed him. He realised, with a wrench in his gut, that his son started withdrawing not long after his wife's death. Burt assumed it was natural; the boy had lost his mother after all. But at the time, he was too busy trying to cope with his own grief that he failed to notice that his son was suffering.

He couldn't remember Kurt bringing friends over after that, he had started talking to Burt less and less, preferring to spend his time in his room alone. Thinking of the image of his broken son, Burt remembered the first and only other time he had seen Kurt with bruises like that.

"He – he's gay" he said, "H-he came out to us only a few weeks before his mother was killed in a car crash, when he was just 13. I remember he came home a couple of weeks after the new school year had started; he had bruises and a split lip. He said that a couple of bullies had been tormenting him about it and had punched him."

Looking to both the doctor and officer with fresh tears in his eyes, he tried to get them to understand. "That was the _only_ time he told me about it. I guess - I guess I just thought that it never h-h-happened again" he added with broken sobs.

"I really am a horrible father, how could I let this happen to him? It's all my fault, it's all my fault" he kept repeating, hugging his arms around himself with tears rolling down his face.

The doctor placed a comforting hand on his shoulder as she stood up. "I'll get a nurse to take you to get cleaned up. Hopefully, we will be able to move your son to his room soon. Officer Jenkins will stay with you for a while so you can visit your son, after that, I'm afraid you can't stay in the room un-supervised.

Nodding again, the doctor left to find an available nurse to help the man, resolving to make a note to request a psych consultation for both father and son. Officer Jenkins accompanied Burt and the nurse to a private room where Kurt would be taken. After he had washed his face and hands, scrubbing to remove the stains of his son's blood, Burt sat down and waited for his son to be brought in.

During the hour wait, he gave the names and address of his employees and neighbours who the officers would talk to. He couldn't give any names from the school or any of his friends. He'd really been absent from his son's life for far too long he admitted to himself. There were no other family. Burt and his wife Katherine were only children. After her death, her parents had moved to England, his parents were in Boston. He hadn't spoken or seen them in three years, not since his wife's death when he cut himself out of society.

Once Kurt had been brought to the room, Burt had let out a gasp as he watched the orderlies settle his broken, bruised and bandaged son. As soon as they left, he had pulled a chair up to the right side of the bed and taken his place holding the un-broken hand, being mindful of the bandage covered cut, begging his son to wake up so he could have the chance to say how sorry he was. Cruelly, only an hour later, Officer Jenkins had interrupted his pleas.

"Mr Hummel, I have to go inform my partner of the doctor's report. In the morning, we will start to gather the statements so we can try and clear you of involvement. I'll come back to update you on the investigation and then both you and the doctor can sign your statements."

Burt gave a resigned sigh. As much as he couldn't bear to part with his son, he knew he had to. If he kicked up a fuss, they would remove him from the hospital. At least he can camp outside his door, being close at hand if there was any change. Standing up and give his son a gentle kiss to his forehead, Burt turned away and nodded.

"Is there anything else that I can do for you before I go?"

"Just catch the bastards that did this." He said with ferocity.

"I plan on it," she said seriously. "You said that your neighbour thinks she saw some people walking off down the street? We will take her statement and hopefully she saw them enough to give a description."

"Thank you, she lives on the north side of our place, her name is Andrea Graham."

Nodding the officer handed over her card with her contact details. "We will be in touch, but if there is any new information, you can call me or my partner Officer Nichols."

Burt was accompanied out of the room and sat himself down on a chair someone had provided opposite the door. He watched as security guard stood, blocking the entry to his son's room. Burt felt like a criminal, and maybe he was, he hadn't physically assaulted his son, but he'd neglected him.

Burt watched the door all night. He watched as various nurses came and went, doing God only knows what, and still he sat there. Some of the nurses took pity on him and upon leaving the room would spare a glance at him and tell him that there was no change. No change was both a good and bad sign. His son wasn't getting any worse, but he wasn't getting any better.

Approximately 11 a.m. the next morning, both Officers Jenkins and Nichols returned and took him aside to the empty room down the hall. Apparently, the school was shocked at the events and were unable to provide comment, either on the relationship between father and son, or if the boy had faced any torment during the school hours.

Most of his worker's had never even met Kurt, having been hired on after his wife's death. It was only the testimony of his most senior employee, Andrew Bennett and his neighbour Andrea who had been able to emphatically say that Burt had never been known to strike any child, let alone his own.

Being his closest neighbour, Andrea had been able to testify that she'd never seen nor heard anything to suggest that Burt was abusing his son. In fact, she hadn't even heard general talking or even the teen angst arguments one would expect. She'd also been able to testify that she had seen at least four largish boys walking away from the house, all wearing Letterman Jackets from McKinley High that she'd never seen in the neighbourhood previously.

The officers informed Burt that they would be looking deeper into the school, assuring that if the attacks had been happening on school grounds then there would be someone who knew something. But as of now, he was cleared of his involvement. They stressed that they would still have investigations going on regarding their relationship, but that he was cleared enough to be with his son.

The first ray of hope entered Burt's eyes since he'd gotten the phone call the previous evening. Jumping up and shaking both their hands he looked over to the security guard who was talking quietly into his radio, confirming that his presence was no longer needed. With a smile, the man stepped to the side and Burt hurried into the room to resume the same position from the previous night.

Two days later and Burt was still in the same position, weariness overwhelming him. He barely slept and only left his son's side to use the bathroom very briefly. He hadn't showered since the morning of the attack before he went to work. He'd refused all offers to go home to shower and sleep. The hospital allowed him to stay; the nurses would bring him food and even arranged to have another cot brought in so he could get some sleep. He never used it. Instead he would doze off in the chair, only to waken a short time later with a start, fearfully looking to his son to see if there was any change. There never was. The only sound was the rhythmic beeping of the machines keeping his son alive.

Burt very gently clasped his son's hand in both of his own, stroking his thumb over the back of his son's hand, and he begged his son softly to wake up. He told him how much he loved him, how much he swore that everything would be different, that he needed to wake up so that he could identify his attackers for what they did.

Burt kept waiting and hoping and praying; praying that he would get the chance to prove to his son how much he loved him. Hoping it wasn't too late to fix their broken relationship, and waiting for his son to open his eyes, eyes that were exactly like his mothers.

**I'm hoping that this chapter has not frightened any of you off, though I completely understand if it has.**

**Just so you know - the worst is over for Kurt in that sense.**

**I am craving your feedback on this story, so -**

**Love it? Hate it? Review and let me know why.**

**Mischievous Gleek**


	3. Not Good

**This chapter took a little longer to get right. There is a lot of back and forth dialogue, I hope that it reads easily for you.**

**The chapter was becoming quite long, so I ended it slightly earlier - I think that it's a natural place, you may not agree!**

**All medical terms and procedures are accurate to the best of my knowledge.**

**This chapter will introduce a few other key characters to the story.**

**While the story is written in Australian/British English, dialogue and thoughts are in US English, simply because they are American characters and that is how they would speak/think.**

**Somethings may not be very clear in this chapter, I only ask for your patience, it will all become clearer soon.**

**No additional warnings for this chapter.**

**Beta'd by the truly wonderful Bellegenana - without her, I would still be pulling my hair out over this chapter!**

**NOTE**** - The Prologue and first chapter have now been BETA'D and there are some major changes in the first chapter, please go back and re-read because it's important changes. Mostly changed from the point where Kurt is in the ER and a minor change during the attack.**

**Disclaimer - I don't own Glee or it's characters, I'm merely borrowing them for my own amusement.**

_**Re-Uploaded because I'm a bit of a dolt and mixed up some of the hand squeezes! Thanks so much for the people who pointed that out to me! Hope this is better! :D**_

_Where we left off - Kurt had been attacked outside of his home. Having had enough, he attempted to commit suicide. Burt found him and he was taken to hospital and now Kurt is in a coma._

Kurt thought that perhaps he was wrong about the 'afterlife'. Maybe there is a hell, and he's now in the fifth or sixth level, surely. He didn't know what to expect after he died, his atheist beliefs certainly did not support the belief in heaven or hell, so he certainly didn't expect there to be fluffy soft clouds with angels waiting for him with his harp and long white robe, but he also didn't expect to be in this much _pain_. If he was being honest, he didn't expect anything, just a sudedensudden change from once breathing to nothing, no more Kurt, ceasing to exist. But this? This was torture.

He felt as though a thousand burning hot needles were being driven into his arms, their fiery tips sitting just beneath the surface, tormenting him. He wanted to scratch them out, but found that his body felt pinned, as though something was forcing him down, preventing him from moving. There were points around his body that felt as though they were being crushed by a house. His wrist and his shoulders felt like someone had encased a giant's hands in concrete and now it was slowly grinding their hands against those parts of his body, trying to crush him into dust. He had to assume this was how poor Nessarose felt when that girl dropped her house on her.

He wanted to call out to someone, wanted to run away and escape this pain, but the pressure on his body was suffocating. When he tried to move, he felt as if his stomach had been wrenched in the opposite direction, as though he was riding the world's fiercest rollercoaster. It was enough that he wanted to vomit. Kurt started to panic, the suffocation, the paralysis; it was all far too reminiscent of the attacks. He tried to struggle, he wanted to throw his head back and scream for help, but the minor movement he did manage only caused a blinding white hot pain that seemed to burst from inside of his head. It felt as if a apocalypse had gone off in his brain, mushroom cloud and all, creating more and more pressure as it was trapped against the inside of his skull.

It was during this unbearable torture that Kurt thought he heard someone speak, but he couldn't be sure, he didn't know what was real anymore. The pain was the only thing on the forefront of his mind.

"Is he having another seizure?" A panicked voice had asked.

Did he know this person? Who would panic in hell for him? He knew his mother would never be here, and no one else seemed to care any longer. Although, he wouldn't care if it was the devil himself, so long as some of the physical pain would just recede for a few seconds. Anything for just a moment's peace.

"Possibly, we won't know until we can get him sedated and in for an ECG." Replied a calm voice, as he felt one of the flaming needles wiggle up his arm, with what felt like a minor fire blazing under his skin.

The words didn't make sense to Kurt. They sounded as though they were whispered on the opposite side of a glass wall while he was underwater. _Maybe I'm a fish?_ Was the last coherent thought he had before he felt himself slipping away as the pain abated to a bearable level.

Kurt didn't know how long he had been subjected to the torture. It seemed to come and go in waves of intensity. When it was at the most severe seemed to be when he also had the most clarity. It was bitterly unfair, but perhaps that's what Hell was all about. He wanted answers, but as soon as he was able to form a question to ask, the pain came ripping through his body, blocking anything else from his senses.

He tried to concentrate; he thought that if he could push the pain to the back of his mind, maybe he would be able to figure out what was going on. So Kurt started multiplying again. It was unbelievably difficult, the last thing his mind wanted to do was maths while he was being tortured, but not Kurt had become an expert of detachment over the years of bullying he'd been subjected too.

_6, 250 x 500 = 3, 125, 000; 6, 250 x 500 = 3, 131, 250; 6, 250 x 502 = 3, 137, 500; 6, 250 x 503 = 3, 143, 750…_

It took a long time, longer than usual, but then he was in more pain than he'd ever been subjected to before. But it started to work; at least he thought it did. He became aware of sounds around him. They didn't make any sense to him, and again, they were muffled as though he was underwater. It took all of his concentration to keep the pain at bay, keep multiplying and also, try to hear what was around him. He could hear strange beeping sounds and whispered words, he strained to hear them. If he could hear what was going on around him, maybe he could figure out where he was.

"It's quite unusual, the wounds are healing very quickly, much more quickly than we could have predicted. The ECG scans show an increase in his brain wave activity that coincides with the seizures. We are not completely sure what this could mean, but hopefully it means that he is coming out of it."

_Are they talking about me?_

At that moment, Kurt felt a new pressure on his hand, warmth as though someone was gripping his hand. He clung to it with all the strength he could muster, hoping that whoever or whatever it was would help pull him out of this black pain. He felt more than heard the flurry of movement around him, not knowing if it was a way to inflict more pain, he gripped the hand tighter as though it was a lifeline.

"He's definitely gripping it!" came an excited voice, "Kurt, if you can hear me, please, just open your eyes!"

Kurt thought this was a strange request, his eyes were open and all he could see was the blackness suffocating him. _Oh! What if I'm__ blind?_ He thought with despair. It was his one true secret fear, blindness. He always knew that he would never be able to cope if his world turned forever dark. With this realisation, he clung as hard as he could to the hand, trying to pull himself out of whatever this hell was.

An undermined amount of time passed, and Kurt could feel himself weakening, his grip on the hand going slack. He tried to fight it, he really did, but he was just so tired. So he let himself drift back off to sleep, promising that he would try again when he woke up.

When Kurt next became aware, it was different again, he couldn't feel any pain, his mind was remarkably clear. He felt a presence wrap around him even though there was no physical touch. In an instant, Kurt felt safe. He didn't hear the words; it was more though they were communicating telepathically. He felt her thoughts enter his subconscious, he clung to them, he needed them.

_Baby, you need to go back._

_Back where?_

_Back to your father, he needs you._

_I don't want to! I want to go with you! I miss you Mom! _

_I miss you too darling, but you are still needed by them._

_By who? No one cares about me! Dad doesn't even speak to me anymore! I'm invisible._

_Baby, your Dad cares more than you know – I promise it will be different._

_I don't want to back to that. It's bad Mom._

_I know baby, I wish more than anything that I could still be there for you. But there are others who need you now too._

_What do you mean?_

_Things are going to change. It will be hard for you to understand. But you have to trust me when I tell you it will be okay._

_Can't I just stay with you? I _need_ you Mom!_

_I will always be here, I still love you and I watch you ever single day. I'm always with you – know that Baby._

_Please don't make me go back! It hurts! I don't want it to hurt anymore!_

_Darling, physical pain can't hurt you in the long run. Don't let them win. You've been so strong, but now you need to be stronger._

Kurt felt the embrace pulling away and clawed for it sobbing. _Mom! Mom__my! Please, please don't leave me!_

_I love you, I've never left you_.

Her words were ringing in his ears as the pain made itself known again. This time it felt as though his entire body was on fire. In contrast, he felt like a frigid ice pick had been thrust onto his forehead, it was cold enough that blocked out the fire engulfing him. Kurt opened his eyes with a gasp.

* * *

><p>Kurt blinked his eyes against the bright light white above him. If it hadn't been for the noise and bustle of activity, he might have thought he'd truly died this time and was now seeing 'the light'. He could still feel the iciness on his forehead; it felt as though he'd been stuck by a frozen cattle brand. The fire was no long ripping through his body, now he just felt incredibly warm, slightly too warm.<p>

He became aware that he had something on his face, covering his mouth and nose; he tried to lift his arm to remove it, but found that he couldn't move his body. It felt as though he'd been strapped down. Kurt started to panic, his senses were overloaded. He tried to struggle free of his bindings, but it only served to increase the pain he felt in various parts of his body. He heard people talking loudly to him, trying to calm him down. The cacophony of voices proving too much in his panicked state and Kurt found himself struggling to breathe.

It was only when he felt the familiar pressure on his right hand again that he seemed to calm down slightly. He glanced to his hand and saw that indeed he was holding someone's hand. His gaze followed up the connected up to see his father's face. He looked a mess. It looked as though he hadn't shaved or bathed in several days. He'd lost weight and looked as though he was battling exhaustion. But while his face was pale and had tears running down his cheeks, he was smiling. His mouth was moving, but Kurt couldn't hear his words. Whether because he was deaf to his father or he just couldn't make them out over the babble of noise, Kurt couldn't be sure. Kurt felt his father squeeze his hand tightly. Kurt returned the squeeze, taking comfort in the one familiar face in this confusion.

Kurt didn't take his eyes off his father. He wanted to speak; he needed to know what was going on. But he couldn't because of the tube blocking his throat. He tried to ask the question with his eyes, putting all the desperation he felt into that one look. He watched his father step closer so that he was right beside him.

"You're in the hospital Little Jay-Bird. Everything is going to be okay, just stay calm. You have tube helping you breath, but you'll be okay."

Kurt felt an odd sense of longing at the childhood nickname, feeling the grip on his hand tightening again, Kurt did as instructed and took several deep breaths. It hurt, but it cleared his head enough so he could break his eye contact with his father. He glanced around at his surroundings and found that yes; he was indeed in the hospital. He realised that he was lying on an uncomfortable bed; he could feel the IV in the back of his right hand.

He could see doctors and nurses bustling around his bed, checking his body reactions and the multitude of machines that he was hooked up too. He heard someone calling his name and looked around to see a kind-faced woman, who looked vaguely familiar, speaking to him. He focused on her, trying to hear what she was saying.

"Kurt, my name is Pearse, can you hear me?"

Kurt wanted to nod his head, but the pain flashed again when he tried to move it. So he resorted for squeezing his dad's hand.

"He squeezed my hand."

"Okay, Kurt, I'm going to ask you a few questions, I want you to squeeze your father's hand with your answer. Once for yes and twice for no. do you understand?"

Kurt squeezed his father's hand once, who happily played translator, a grin fighting to break across his face. All that truly mattered to Burt was that Kurt was awake and aware enough to respond. While he knew this was only the first hurdle, he was truly overwhelmed that he still had the chance to make this right with his little boy.

"Kurt, do you know why you are in the hospital?"

Two squeezes.

"Do you remember what happened?"

Kurt thought about this vague question. He could remember a lot of things happening. He tried to work out logically what the doctor may have meant. He figured she probably meant something that would be enough to put him in hospital.

He remembered getting home, and the jocks waiting for him. He remembered the attack, and oh, he remembered what he had decided to do once he was inside. He'd tried to kill himself. Obviously he failed, he thought dejectedly. With sadness, Kurt squeezed his father's hand once.

"Okay, that's really good Kurt. Now, I bet you'd like that breathing tube removed, huh? I think we can do that now that you are awake, so long as you're okay and you do well with the pressure support."

_What the heck is pressure support? Of course I want this thing out!_ Kurt gripped his father's hand furiously as Dr. Pearce activated the pressure support on the ventilator. After Kurt demonstrated that he could breathe on his own without ventilator support, she nodded and spoke again.

"Okay, now just relax, keep breathing through your nose, this will feel a little uncomfortable okay? You may cough while this is being removed."

One squeeze.

Kurt felt like he was choking as they withdrew the tube. He tried to keep breathing through his nose like the doctor had told him, but his throat was raw and felt like it had been scratched from the inside. He coughed and gagged when the tube was finally free from his mouth. He took several deep breaths, wincing at the rawness of his throat. He tried to speak, but his throat was too raw and sore, all that he managed was an odd gurgling sound.

"Can you speak?"

Two squeezes.

"That's okay, it's to be expected considering the trauma your throat had."

At Kurt's alarmed look the doctor explained.

"It looks as though you sustained some damage to your windpipe by blunt force. The damage is minimal and there is little risk of scarring. With time it should recover fully. You are very lucky."

Kurt remembered Browning had his arm wrapped around his neck. He winced at the memory.

"Kurt, there are a few people who need to ask you some questions, and it's best if they ask without your father present, at least at first" Dr Pearse added.

Kurt looked alarmingly between the doctors and his father. He saw that his father's shoulders had drooped and his head had hung down looking at the floor. Kurt gently tugged on his father's hand trying to get his attention. He raised his head slightly but didn't make eye contact with Kurt.

"It'sIts ok sonSon, you didn't do anything wrong, they just have to ask these questions. I'll be waiting right outside and I'll come back in as soon as they say it's ok."

Kurt, not keen to lose sight of his only familiarity in all the strangeness felt his eye's well up with tears. He could see the determination on the doctor's face and the resignation on his fathers. Reluctantly, Kurt squeezed his father's hand once. His father offered him a small smile as he squeezed back reassuringly before leaving the room.

Left alone, Kurt watched in panic as a man n orderly came in and set up a video camera so that it was pointing at him but with its focus on his hand.

"Kurt, you are not in any trouble. We just want to find out what happened to you, and make sure that you are safe. Because the police where involved when you were brought to the hospital, this is simply a record for them since they aren't here. We could wait for them, but it's best to ask these questions as soon as possible so your memory is fresh."

A dark-haired nurse stepped forwards and gently grasped his hand.

"Hi Kurt, my name is Nurse Ruth, I think you know my son Noah. I will be asking you the questions, is it okay if I hold your hand so you can answer the questions? I promise that if you get scared, or want to stop, we'll stop. We just want to know more about what happened, to help you get better and make sure this doesn't happen again."

Kurt stared at the woman with large eyes. _This was Puck's mom?_ Kurt gingerly squeezed her hand once and watched as she relayed the information to the orderly man who was now writing what Ruth said.

"Okay Kurt we are going to get started now, don't be alarmed by the camera, it's just to make sure that we don't miss anything. Just answer the questions honestly okay?"

One squeeze.

"Kurt, when you were brought into the hospital, you had many injuries. Did someone cause all of those injuries?"

One reluctant squeeze.

"Did you cut your arms?"

One reluctant squeeze.

"Did you do that on purpose? Were you trying to kill yourself?"

One soft squeeze, followed by his eyes welling over.

"It's okay Kurt; we don't need to talk about that right now. Since you were brought to the hospital, you've been in a coma. Do you know how long it's been?" Ruth gently wiped away the tears that flowed from Kurt's eyes, giving him a moment to regain himself.

After a few moments passed, Kurt's shoulders heaved, and Ruth felt him squeeze twice.

"You've been here for 4 days. You had some pretty bad injuries, and had trouble breathing. That's why you can't talk."

Kurt looked at her surprised, with all the pain he felt, he thought it would have been longer. Ruth decided to continue asking the questions.

"Do you remember what caused your other injuries?"

One squeeze.

"Did someone do that to you?"

One squeeze.

"Do you know who attacked you?"

One squeeze.

"Is that person at your school?'

One squeeze, then two squeezes. Kurt looked desperate to talk, but Ruth put her finger over his mouth to keep him quiet.

"Okay, something was wrong with what I said. Its okay Kurt, remember you shouldn't try to talk. Was there more than one person who attacked you?

One squeeze, followed by a slight nod of Kurt's head.

"Kurt, I want you to squeeze my hand once if the people are adults, like a teacher or janitor, and twice if they are classmates.'

Kurt could feel tears pooling up in his eyes again as he squeezed twice. He felt ashamed and embarrassed by his incapacitation. He wanted to be able to defend himself, explain himself to this woman who reminded him of his mother, supportive and invested in his answers. He could tell that she desperately wanted to take care of him, but for now, he was only able to answer direct yes or no questions. For the first time in a very long time, someone was focused solely on him, and Kurt wanted to let everything go and let her help him.

"This is not your fault Kurt. You squeezed twice, so it was your classmates who attacked you this time. I understand. But, you also have older injuries, some that required medical attention in the past. Did they happen at home?"

The tears turned to that of rage. _So that's why they asked his dad to leave! They thought his dad caused his injuries!_ While he is still angry at his father for his distance and ambivalence, Kurt knew that his dad would never intentionally hurt him. Not physically at least. His choice to remove himself from his life might have hurt deeply, but it wasn't like his dad would ever abuse him. He tried to convey as much in the two strong squeezes, furious eye's glaring at the doctor.

"Kurt, I know this is difficult but we need to make sure you are safe. We need to know if your dad has done something to you, or had done something before. Has your father ever hurt you, ever done something that you know isn't right?"

Another two angry squeezes, and in an effort to get his point across he shook his head slightly from side to side and mouthed NO furiously. He tried to ignore the blinding pain in his head when he moved, but was unable to stop the wince spreading across his face. He felt Ruth's cool gentle hand touching his face.

"It's okay Kurt, we just had to make sure, you don't need to hurt yourself. I understand., I know your dad loves you, but we have to ask these questions with what has happened."

Once Kurt had been able to bite back from screaming with the pain, he felt his heart rate start to slow down, the pain reduced to a dull throbbing. Seeming more settled, Ruth continued.

"Now, the people that hurt you this time, had they hurt you before?"

One squeeze.

"Are there other people who hurt you as well? More than the people who hurt you this time?"

Two squeezes, as Kurt looked down towards his lap.

"Thank you Kurt, we need to know this so we can help you. You said earlier that there was more than one who attacked you this time? Can you please squeeze my hand for the number of students who did this to you?"

Five squeezes.

"Okay, you squeezed five times. Would you be able to name them or point them out from a photograph?"

One squeeze.

"Okay I will let the officers know that. Your neighbour said that she saw some boys walking down the street wearing letterman jackets. Were the people who attacked you wearing those?"

One squeeze.

"Where they all male?"

One squeeze.

"We have photos of all the male students who've received a letterman jacket that are currently still attending the school. If we show you, can you identify them for the police?"

Kurt thought hard about this. Did he want them caught? Yes. But did he want to go through a trial about it? Here he hesitated. He didn't really want to be put in the spotlight about it. If he did, and they were let off, they would come after him again. But if he didn't, they were sure to come after him again anyway. Figuring that he was bound for another beating either way, Kurt decided that the least he could do to fight back was to report them, who knows, maybe they'd all be put away and he wouldn't have to worry about them again. So Kurt gave one strong squeeze to Nurse Ruth's hand.

"It's okay Kurt, you didn't do anything wrong. The police just need to know what has been happening to make sure it doesn't happen again. They'll make sure your safe, okay? Just stay calm, we'll figure this all out when you feel better. We do have something else we need to talk about. Have you ever self-harmed before this? Have you hurt yourself on purpose before you cut your arms?"

Two squeezes.

So Ruth's assistant held up individual headshots of every student from McKinley who received a letterman jacket. Kurt squeezed once for yes at the photos of his five attackers and the doctor held the photos up to the camera and read the names from the backs of each photo. Kurt squeezed the hand once again, confirmed that they were the five boys and hoped that this wouldn't come back to bite him in the arse.

Kurt watched as the assistant packed away the camera and left the room silently. Burt was allowed re-entry, and Doctor Pearse returned to monitor Kurt's state. The doctor and nurse then went on to explain that they needed to check his injuries and run a few tests now that he was awake. Kurt reluctantly let go of Nurse Ruth's hand and tried to keep his breathing even while they methodically and carefully checked his wounds and gently re-bandaged them. They checked his blood pressure and heart rate. They shone a penlight in his eyes and felt around his very tender throat. Then they took some more blood and took care of his other needs, then Doctor Pearse spoke to Kurt again before taking her leave.

"I'll be running some additional tests, just to make sure everything is okay, but at this stage, your injuries are healing very well and very quickly. I'll be back in about an hour to go over everything with you. Now, your dad can stay, and Nurse Ruth will be here if you need anything."

Nurse Ruth had grabbed his hand quickly as the doctor left.

"Would you like some water?"

He squeezed her hand once. She moved away and his father took her place. Kurt watched her soak a clean sponge in water before placing it over his lips and gently squeezing a few drops out it, wetting his dry cracked lips the inside of his mouth. She repeated the motion with a harder squeeze so that a few drops of water trickled down his throat.

He tried to smile to show his thanks, but it came out as more of a grimace, Nurse Ruth however merely stroked her hand across his cheek gently and whispered 'You're welcome'. Kurt saw her move away then to the end of his bed where she fiddled with his chart, making notes and reading, respectfully giving Kurt time with his father.

Kurt felt his Dad gently rubbing his thumb over the back of his hand, mindful of the drip, Kurt turned to see that he had tears silently rolling down his face.

"Kurt, Jay-Bird, God! I can't believe this happened! I can't lose you too! I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!"

Kurt averted his gaze so that he was staring at the ceiling. As much as had found comfort at having a familiar face before, now all he felt was hurt and anger at the man who had ignored him for nearing three years. He could see his father wanted forgiveness, but Kurt couldn't honestly give that. He was far too hurt by the continued inactions of his father since his mother's death. So instead, he mirrored Burt's behaviour and ignored him as best he could.

* * *

><p>It took Kurt another two days before he regained the use of his voice, albeit a scratchy, hoarse voice that sounded nothing like his normal feminine lilt. The doctors assured him that while his injuries were dire, with the speed of his recovery, they tentatively told him that his body might be able to heal with no lasting damage. During that time, his father very rarely left his side; it was only at Kurt's request for some clothing from home that Burt left the hospital for the first time since Kurt had been brought in. He only left the room at Kurt's insistence for privacy when they were cleaning him and changing his bedpans.<p>

The day after he awoke turned out to be a very busy day for him. Officers Jenkins and Nichols were introduced to him as the investigating officers of his attack. They needed a formal statement from him along with the video of his earlier interview. Again, it was Kurt's insistence that his father leave the room, more out of his own embarrassment and shame than anything else.

So Kurt spoke, he told them all about the day's events and everything from the attack itself. When he got to the part of four of the guys leaving he hesitated. It was not in his nature to 'out' anyone, no matter how heinous, but the threat of Karofsky... It was only with Officer Nichol's prodding that Kurt finally broke down and explained through his sobs what Karofsky had done to him.

Thankfully, Nurse Ruth, a true wonder as far as Kurt was concerned, realised that Kurt was quickly becoming overwhelmed, and shooed the officers out of the room. She insisted that Kurt needed some time and that they would have to come back to ask any more questions. She also paged Doctor Pearse and informed her of the new developments. Doctor Pearse put a rush psych consultation she had requested.

The agents came back the following day and Kurt was able to finish the interview much more calmly. They pressed for a lot of information leading up to the day. They questioned him about school and teachers, any friends and his father. It hurt him to admit to someone that he was alone in all senses of the word. He got word later on that all five boys had been arrested for various degrees of assault and hate crimes. One of the jocks was forced to tell the truth when their parents found out what they had done and the police questioned them, and it seemed like it was over. A trial was still to be held; Kurt hoped that it went quickly.

Kurt was taken for many ECG's and MRI's and any other combinations of alphabet soup that the hospital could possibly think of. While they said his recovery is rapid, he was still in a lot of pain and would often complain about sharp pain on his forehead, even though there was no injury there. All his tests came back as showing normal wave lengths and no tissue damage so it was implied that it may be psychological rather than physiological.

Kurt really thought he'd done something to his brain physically, especially as he found himself answering questions before they were even asked. On a couple of occasions, new people would enter his room and he knew their names before they told him. At first he assumed he must have met them at some point beforehand, and he put down the ability to answer the questions early because he thought it was all so cliché.

But when he started noticing small things, like the time his father knocked over the kidney dish holding the new bandages, Kurt saw it happen a few seconds before it actually did – déjà vu he told himself. When they brought a TV into the room, Kurt conversationally asked if they had put out the fire on Market Street yet. When the TV was switched on, the program was interrupted by breaking news coverage of the fire that started 15 minutes prior. Kurt knew then that something was wrong.

He didn't really want to mention it to his Doctors or Nurses, no matter how much he liked them; he didn't want them to look at him like a crazy person. But when on the second morning he was able to get out of bed, heavily aided, for the first time, Kurt walked past a mirror and saw his reflection for the first time and gasped.

While most of his injuries had nearly healed and the bruising all but faded to a pale sickly yellow, it was the mark on his forehead that troubled him. It looked like a really old scar, just faint white lines, but because of their novelty, they stood out to him like a giant black tattoo. He had stepped closer to get a better look; it was of a conical spiral enclosed in a perfect circle. He scrubbed at it with the back of his right hand, furiously trying to wipe it off, but it wouldn't budge.

Kurt became slightly panicked and demanded from the orderlies holding him to bring Doctor Pearse in immediately. They put him back in his bead and paged the doctor who arrived within two minutes, not used to getting called to Kurt's room. She rushed in but before she could question what was wrong, Kurt pointed furiously at his forehead and wanted to know what had happened to him. The doctor had merely sputtered slightly.

"I don't know what you mean Kurt."

"This! How did I get this? Why didn't anyone tell me about it before?" Kurt demanded, jabbing his finger right over the mark.

"Kurt, there's nothing there… "

But Kurt interrupted his father. "I'm not crazy! I can see it there! I can feel it there!"

Doctor Pearse's heart sank. Putting together all the clues, she was shocked she had not noticed it before.

"Kurt," she began hesitantly, "I'm not 100% sure what happened. I-I'll need to order a – a consultation and another blood test before I can say definitely. I'll be able to have you in by tomorrow lunch time."

Kurt calmed down knowing that he may get some answers about the strange mark, he settled himself further down the bed and started channel flicking. Doctor Pearse meanwhile had motioned Burt that she wanted to talk to him in private.

"I'll be back in a second kid."

Kurt simply continued to ignore his father who sighed and stepped out into the hall.

"What is it? Is something wrong with his brain?"

"Mr. Hummel, as I told your son, I'm not entirely sure precisely what is happening, but I have an idea. I would like to wait for the consultation before I make a diagnosis though."

"So have you seen this sort of thing before?"

"Something like that." The doctor admitted with a grim set to her mouth. "In the meantime, please just keep him calm. While neither you nor I can see what he is referring to, obviously he can. So it's best not to let him get too worked up about it."

Burt nodded his head and returned to his son's room, taking up his silent vigil, waiting for his son to heal so he could be a better father, and hopefully get acknowledgment from him again.

Doctor Pearse meanwhile called up and cancelled her psych consultation request. Given the circumstances, the hospitals staff psychologist would not suffice. While Carole had only recently graduated and had no official affiliations with the hospital, Dr. Pearse knew that this particular case was best suited for someone who had a better working knowledge of the situation. But first, she had to be _sure._

* * *

><p>The next morning, Dr. Pearse made her way to Kurt's room accompanied by a young slender blonde holding a large arrangement of brightly coloured balloons. Knocking on the door, Dr. Pearse asked Mr Hummel and the on duty Nurse to step outside as it was time for the arranged consultation she spoke about.<p>

Kurt eagerly propped himself up a little straighter, glad to finally get some answers. Burt left the room but threw a surprised look at the doctor when he saw who was standing behind her but left the room and shut the door as requested. Once the three were alone, Dr. Pearse cleared her throat and spoke.

"Kurt, I'd like for you to meet Brittany, my daughter."

Kurt's shock was written all over his face as a bouncy blonde girl dressed in the McKinley High cheerleading uniform stepped around the doctor, holding out a large bouquet of balloons.

"Hi! My Mom said you're sick. Balloons always make me feel better."

Kurt could only gape like a fish, clearly thinking that the doctor must have lost _her_ mind. He'd recognised the ditzy cheerleader from his school, but had never had any contact with her. Just as he was about to question the doctor's sanity, he noticed that Brittany had a mark on her forehead, one he was positive she'd never had before. As he leant forwards to try and get a better look, he was startled when the blonde girl gave an excited squeal.

"Oh look! You're a Unicorn too! We can be Unicorns together!"

Sure enough, there on her forehead was a similar conical spiral, only hers was minus the circle. Before Kurt could even gather his wits, the door burst open and in stepped a tanned boy with a Mohawk.

"I just heard -!" Catching sight of Kurt lying in the bed, Noah Puckerman shoulders dropped. "Shit dude, I'm really sorry."

On his forehead was a circle like Kurt's, but inside was three waved lines sitting on top of each other, not touching. Kurt looked to his doctor with questioning eyes. He saw a sadness in her eyes and he felt himself slump back onto the bed. Whatever this was, it can't be good.

**Please don't hate me! More will be coming as soon as it's publishable!**

**As always - **

**Love it? Hate it? Review and let me know why!**

**Mischievous Gleek**


	4. A Mental Mind Fk Can Be Nice

**Hey readers! I am so very sorry for the long delay! Multiple excuses, but lets just say that puppy + coffee + laptop = disaster waiting to happen!**

**This chapter see's Kurt (and you) start to get a lot of answers, be warned, this chapter is essentially _all_ dialogue and I apologise for that, I hope you stick with it!**

**As such, it generated a lot of back and forth with my AMAZING Beta Bellegenana! Writing this chapter gave me a headache and she has waved her magic wand and made sense of my nonsensical ramblings!**

**You'll be pleased to know that Ch4 is half way done already and there is a very definite plot line that has been developed, so hopefully it won't take as long to get future chapters out. **

**This chapter is rated T for language and also has a lot of medical/scientific terms. I've tried to keep it as accurate as possible even though I'm warping some of the details. **

**Warnings - mentions of suicide and fantasy/sci-fi themes. If that's not your cup of tea you really shouldn't read this story. :)**

**Disclaimer - I don't own Glee or it's characters, I'm just borrowing them for my own amusement. **

**_Last chapter Kurt was bombarded with Brittany and Puck, both of whom had marks on their foreheads too - _**

_Kurt looked to his doctor with questioning eyes. He saw a sadness in her eyes and he felt himself slump back onto the bed. Whatever this was, it can't be good._

Kurt felt his mind reeling, he was hoping he'd be seeing some kind of specialist about the weird mark on his forehead, instead he was watching two teens from his school, both with similar marks of their own, arguing with Dr. Pearse.

"Noah, what are you doing here?"

"Santana sent me a text and said there was another one, so I, you know, wanted to see." He finished meekly.

"How did Santana know?" Dr. Pearse asked looking stern towards her daughter.

"I told Sanny." She answered bubbly. "Why? Did I do something wrong?"

"Brittany, how many times do I have to tell you?" Dr. Pearse asked exasperatedly. "You can't go telling _anyone_ about a person in hospital. You know that's private. Both of us could get in a lot of trouble. You know it's not right to talk about other people like this. Did Santana talk you into this, again?"

Brittany let her head drop to her chest, how could she forget that? But Santana said…

While Brittany zoned out, Puck redirected the attention back to the matter at hand.

"Why's Britt here then?" Puck demanded.

"I got special permission from Dr. Lopez to bring Brittany and yourself here. Emma flatly refused to come to the hospital until it was clear that Kurt was one. Obviously, I can't make the determination, we thought the best option available was for me to introduce him to Brittany, so that she could see. _Clearly_that was a big mistake. What made you decide to come, Noah? You don't seem all that invested in this to begin with."

"The both of you tell Santana she's not to tell anyone else, right now. If she has, then you guys better make sure that everyone who knows is aware of the repercussions here. Find out who knows and tell them to keep their mouths shut. I'm going to have to call Mr. Berry now."

Kurt was beyond confused. Here was his pleasant, kind-faced doctor ripping into the teens, for a reason he couldn't work out for the life of him. He was beginning to get frustrated. What was his doctor doing talking to his classmates about his suicide attempt? What right does she have to do that to him? But he had more important questions about this stupid spot, and seeing the marks on others with his own eyes, he wasn't wasting any more time.

"Hey!" He shouted over the teens and supposed medical professional. "Would someone care to explain to me what the hell is going on here? What are these marks? Why do these two have them too?"

Puck and Brittany shared a sheepish look with Dr. Pearse.

"He doesn't know yet?"

"No Noah, he doesn't, which is why you two best get on to those who know. Now!"

"I'm sorry Mommy" Brittany apologised in a small voice as she let Puck lead her out the room.

"Kurt, I am _so_ sorry. They know better than that I swear, but Brittany…" She trailed off; it is still hard for her to think about the changes in her daughter. If only she could just explain to Kurt _why_ Brittany was the way she is now.

"What the hell is going on here?" Kurt repeated, clearly tired of the lack of information.

With a deep sigh Dr. Pearse pulled up a chair next to his bed. Her proximity and her clear reluctance to be the one telling him what is going on were additional indicators that whatever she was going to say, he wasn't going to like it.

"Kurt, this is extremely difficult to explain, and I'm really not the best person for the job. I have scheduled a consultation for you with a psychologist who knows much more about what's happening. She's been able to fit you in today, and I think it's best she explain it."

"I am NOT crazy!"

Kurt flailed as he tried to get out of bed, but her strong hands held him down as she spoke in a calm voice.

"No, you're not. I know that, believe me I do. But the consultation was arranged for both yourself and your father because, first of all, it's standard hospital practice in situations like yours. Any suicide attempt requires a 72 hour hold with psych evaluation. Now, I know that your actions were driven more by the assault, but it's still necessary. I think it would truly benefit you to talk these things out with a professional. Second, the person I've arranged has a better knowledge of what's happening to you. She can help you, I promise."

It was there, those last two sentences that got Kurt to calm down. What's _happening_, meaning that it was still going on, it wasn't just because he tried to kill himself. He'd trusted Dr. Pearse thus far, he'd continue to do so for now. Wanting answers more than anything, Kurt realised he would have to go by the rules. Taking a few deep breaths, Kurt tried again.

"I want to know what's going on. What are these marks? Why do those two have them as well?"

With a resigned sigh, Dr. Pearse tried to explain.

"Alright Kurt I'm going to need you to promise to remain calm and listen to me without interruption. As long as you can do that, I'll tell you what I know about the marks. You are not going to want to believe me, so it's important you just listen to me and wait until you've spoken to the psychologist _before_you jump to any conclusions. Okay?"

Seeing Kurt's wary nod she continued.

"Okay. First of all, do you know much about genetics?"

"Sort of, I guess. I've never been very good at science." Kurt answered with a shrug.

"Do you know about Chromosome's and DNA?"

"A little, we have 23 right?"

"Yes." She answered with a nod. "But, history records show a select group of individuals are different from the general population. It's only been since the mapping of the human genome project that we've realised these differences are on the chromosomal level. The current theory surrounding these differences is that it is hereditary, but given how it presents, there is simply no way to know for sure."

"So I _am_ a freak." Kurt spat bitterly, thinking of all the times he'd been called as such if not worse.

"No!" The doctor answered emphatically, "You are NOT a freak. It's merely that your genetic make-up is slightly different, sort of the same way as someone with Down syndrome is." She explained, hoping to make Kurt see it wasn't necessarily _wrong_.

"How come I only have the mark now? Why was I never tested for it earlier? If people know about it, surely they would have some way to determine who has it."

"There is no testing done at this point, it's virtually impossible to track before it presents itself." she answered sadly. "Researchers have said it needs a catalyst before it will develop, and research has shown that the people with a presented mark have already entered puberty."

"What do you mean presented? What sort of catalyst?" Kurt asked, though he had a fairly good idea given his personal circumstances.

"Any near death experiences, from what I've researched and seen myself has been associated with triggering the powers. Though, typically the patient must have actually _died_ at some point and been revived for it to work."

"So, then what everyone has been saying is true, it's all my fault I'm a freak." Kurt quietly stated.

If he had succeeded in his suicide attempt, done it properly the first time, none of this would be happening. Kurt started panicking. Unable to comprehend anything the doctor was saying beyond her confirmation of his freakishness, Kurt was lost in his own self-hatred. He began sobbing nonsensically; about being a freak, his feelings of isolation, and his overwhelming belief that he c couldn't do anything right. The stress of the attack, his suicide attempt, the hospital stay, hell, even the loss of his mother and isolation from his father, it all built and built until he was in the midst of a full-blown panic attack. He felt as if he couldn't breath, he couldn't stop himself from flashing to the assault in his yard. As he felt hands trying to hold him down, he knew Karofsky had come back to finish what he'd started, and he lost it.

"Don't touch me! I'm a freak! Are you happy? Get back! Mommy!"

His already abused vocal chords felt as if they were breaking from the force behind his screams. He felt sharp point of pain in his arm and before he knew it the room seemed to be getting dimmer. He heard noises as though he was underwater. His last conscious thought was _I__'__m __a __freak_.

* * *

><p>When Kurt opened his eyes groggily, the first thing he saw was the worried face of his father. It took him a minute for his brain to catch up to the fact that he'd been sedated. His breath caught in his throat as he remembered the conversation he had with Dr. Pearse and panic began to cloud his eyes.<p>

"Hey now, calm down Little Jay. It's okay, you're okay. I need you to just breathe for me."

Kurt's breath hitched as he tried to breathe normally, as he felt tears welling in his eyes. Not wanting to see the sad eyes of his father, Kurt turned his head to the right and saw the smiling face of strange woman. His first thought was that someone should burn her outfit. Acid wash denim is just an affront to Versace and man.

"Kurt, this is Dr. Hudson -"

"Carole, please." She interjected.

With a small smile Burt continued. "She's here to talk to the both of us, but if you don't want to talk, I'll make her come back later. Are you okay to talk right now? Burt promised himself he would protect Kurt, and if he had to go head to head with the hospital, he would. Thankfully Kurt nodded his acceptance of Dr. Hudson.

"Can you sit up a bit? Do you want some water or anything?" Burt realised that he may be over protective at the moment, but Kurt was his baby, his Little Jay, and he was going to make sure Kurt knew he was there for him.

Unfortunately, his father's fussing irritated Kurt. Where was he when he needed him for the last three years? Grimly, Kurt used the remote on the bed to raise himself up into a sitting position and carefully arranged himself so he was comfortable. Indicating to the cup on his bedside table, he accepted the water his father passed to him and took a few long slow sips through the straw. His throat had been improving, but the panic attack clearly set him back again. It felt like he was swallowing battery acid, but felt a bit better with the moisture after finishing his drink. Kurt tried to speak but all that came out was a hoarse rasp. Clearing his throat painfully, he tried again.

"What's going on?"

"Hi Kurt, like your father said, I'm Dr. Hudson, but please call me Carole. Dr. Pearse told me she discussed this with you already, but I wanted to make sure you understand. I'm here to talk with you about what's happened with you recently. Hospital policy would have required you speak with me, since you hurt yourself, and I think it best that I speak with both you and your father. I know you probably don't want to talk about it, but it's necessary to make sure that you get healthy, both physically and emotionally. It's nothing to fear, this is just to make sure that we've given you the necessary tools to stop this from happening again. I'm just here to listen to you, and offer you an outside perspective to everything. If you have any questions, or need to stop, you just let me know, although stopping doesn't mean that we're finished. It will just delay the rest of our talks."

Carol immediately came across as a professional, and he could sense her empathetic response to his situation. Burt was especially impressed at how she's explained her position in this.

"Now I know that you've been through some horrible events of late, and we will talk about them, but I can see that you have some questions so why don't we start with those," she indicated with a gentle smile to Kurt.

"Um, Dr. Pearse said that the psychologist would be able to tell me what this mark on my forehead means. What is it and what does it mean?"

With a nod and a grin Carole indicated that Burt should sit down, while she took out some papers from a file sitting on the tray table next to her.

"Now I know that Dr. Pearse tried to explain some of the basics to you, and quite understandably it lead to a severe panic attack. I think its best that I start from the beginning, as this will clear some things up for you, and it will help your father understand too. Just remember to keep breathing calmly, and if you start to panic, all you need to do is say stop. I'll stop whenever you need me to, alright? I know it's a lot to take in, but we will work through it all and I'll try to answer any questions you have. You don't have to make sense of it all right away, we can take as much time as you need. If I feel you are getting to anxious, or overwhelmed, I will stop, Kurt. It will do nobody any good if you push past your own limits. None of us want that, okay?"

Seeing the alarmed expression on Burt's face, Carole turned to address him as she began the initial explanation of Kurt's differences. As Kurt had already heard all of this from his doctor, hearing it again would allow him to process the information without the shock value.

"Mr Hummel…"

"Burt."

"Burt, simply put, there are individuals throughout the world whose DNA presents differently than that of the general population, and as such it causes various alterations to the person's mind and body. These changes vary person to person, so it's difficult to explain to you exactly what distinctive differences develop."

Burt scrunched his forehead up trying to understand what Carole was talking about, so his son was different –

"Is this because he's gay?"

Carole caught sight of the crestfallen look that passed over Kurt's face as he subtly tried to draw into himself at his father's question. Making a mental note to address the issue in later sessions she shook her head with a smile.

"Not at all. In fact researchers have not been able to find any correlation between age, race, gender or sexual preference to this genetic variation. History has shown that these transformations have been medically documented since the late 1800's, and in all that time researchers are still at a loss to explain why it is only certain individuals affected. There is a possibility that it's hereditary, but given the circumstances, it's practically impossible to plot its ancestry."

"Why?"

"Burt, as was already explained to your son, there is no definitive testing for it yet. The DNA structure appears to remain 'standard' if you will until the catalyst occurs. The research has demonstrated that everyone with a presented variation has experienced what they define as a catalyst, or a near death experience that must take place after puberty has begun. The catalyst will only trigger the variation if the individual dies momentarily.

"Now, to be clear, not all individuals who have experienced an instance of death or near death will present the genetic variation. _But_ those with the genetic phenomenon will have died for at least a moment as I stated, it's difficult to determine if it is hereditary, as science would need to see a clear line of descendants who have been affected and short of killing and reviving family members of those with active genes, it is basically an impossible task."

"So she's saying I'm a freak, and this all my fault, dad. I was a freak before and this just proves it. If I had only killed myself properly this would never have happened, and you wouldn't have to deal with this." Kurt spat bitterly.

"No Kurt." Carole answered fiercely. "First of all, 'freak' is not a term used by anyone involved in this matter, and even if it was, you most certainly are not one. Would you call that lovely girl that Brittany spends time with, Becky, a freak? There's no difference between this and any other genetic anomaly, they are simply genetic conditions that impact the life of the person."

Kurt looked offended that Carol would even think he would say something like that about Becky, yes she was different but she was also a sweetheart who always gave a smile to him in the halls at school.

Second, I've read your medical file, I know what's happened to you, and we will get to that, really soon. However it's certainly _not_ your fault that the world we live in happens to have too many small-minded individuals who are scared of things they don't understand. There are more people in this world than those who have bullied you, and I know that you will have the support you need to get through this.

"This change, yes it will be challenging for you, but you have the advantage of having a support system with it. You are by no means the only one like this, and there are kids who have been living with it for years. It sounds trite, but it gets better."

Kurt couldn't stop the immediate rush of affection for the woman. She knew what she was talking about, and absolutely refused to allow him to wallow in self-doubt and pity. It felt as if nobody had jumped to his defence like that since his mother died. It was strange to feel such an immediate connection, but also very comforting. It was similar to his reaction to Ruth when she was interviewing him. Yes, he could admit it; he had some serious mommy issues and an overwhelming longing for affection from anybody. Well, except his father, he thought as he carefully extracted the hand he had been squeezing. He wasn't ready to face up to that yet. There was too much hurt to just forgive and forget. The action did not go unnoticed by Carole.

"So, how about we start with all the medical mumbo jumbo, then we can work from there, hmm?" She asked with a smile, hoping to alleviate the tension.

Carole held up a picture to both men, "This is a regular DNA sequence, the Double Helix. I'm sure you've seen or heard mention of it at some point before. It's made up of 23 Chromosomes in matching pairs."

She then held up a different picture, "This is what the DNA sequence looks like after the change. As you can see, the double helix is still there, but there is a third 'arm' branching off the main helix, this one includes four additional Chromosomal pairs that are different to anything in the main DNA sequence. Those who have experienced this change now have a triple helix.

"Now, the scientists and doctors who research this haven't been able to explain what those chromosomes are or even the official names for these extra parts. In effect, all that really means is that they can't explain what their function is either. All we know is that everyone who has been through this change has exactly the same additions, though the chromosomal pairs vary between each carrier.

"While this phenomenon has been documented in the scientific community for over 100 years, it's only been in the last few decades that our science has been advanced enough to really investigate it, so new information is constantly coming forwards."

Carole paused to let all the information sink in for both Burt and Kurt.

"So is it that weird chromosome thing that's the reason behind everything that's happening to me?"

"What's happening to you Kurt?"

Carole had read his file but she wanted to hear him own up to what happened to him, and what was still happening himself. This was the first step in his recovery, acceptance.

"Well, the mark on my forehead for one. When I first woke up, I would get these freezing sharp pains, like a localized brain freeze, it hasn't been doing that much lately. And then there is...well, it's weird. It was, like I was able to predict stuff happening."

"Like what?" Carole knew where this was going from her previous experience with empowered individuals, but as Kurt hadn't told anyone about it before, she wanted to hear his thoughts on it might be.

"Well, like the other day, a nurse put the TV on and I asked her about the fire on Market Street. But while we were watching a commercial, the news interrupted and showed the fire had only just started. I sometimes know what some people say or ask before they do. It's stupid; I figured it was just probably déjà vu or they had already said it or something." He added with a wave of his hand.

Carole smiled encouragingly, but kept her voice firm. "No Kurt, that's not stupid at all, and it's not unexpected really. Please, keep in mind that everything we know about this is still technically hypothetical, and certainly not concrete. But the research has shown that those who have gone through the change all have varying degrees of ability. It's technically called precognition. It sounds like yours is only a minor ability, you can't predict the future or see winning lottery numbers," she said with a chuckle.

"But, with what you've told me, it sounds like you will get little glimpses of things that will directly relate to yourself or other people who interact with you. Usually it is inconsequential things, like knowing what someone is going to ask as you've already mentioned. Maybe going to pick up the phone before it actually rings. I know this sounds crazy, but I know it has helped others who have changed get out of sticky situations. So while this will be different for you, you could look at this ability as a positive, maybe a perk of being changed. Besides, you'll probably never lose your keys or phone again."

Carole knew from her close involvement in previous activations that this was sometimes more of a hindrance than perk, and that some with powers often tried to use it to their advantage. A negative aspect of having teenagers with the genetic anomaly, they typically tried to 'see' things like class exams, but the responsibility conversation was best left for a later date. Hopefully, without her involvement; it was so difficult to rein teenagers in anyway, but giving them this advantage, almost impossible.

"As for the mark on your forehead, well, we've discovered that only people who have been through the change can see it. That's why Dr. Pearse was initially confused when you asked about it, same for your father. I know that it must have felt like you were going crazy, but let me assure you, it's real. I can see why it's so frustrating for you not to be able to get answers. Unfortunately, we have more questions than answers about the mark, and most of the things that will happen now. We just don't know if the mark is a direct result of the DNA alteration or the changes to your brain wave activity."

* * *

><p>Kurt felt his heart rate speed up at this new piece of knowledge. There was something wrong with his brain? Before he could even verbalise the question, Carole had continued, effectively putting him at ease.<p>

"Now wait, this doesn't mean there is anything 'wrong' with your brain," she said with a smile as Kurt visibly relaxed back onto the bed. "As I said before, your DNA structure is the same as anyone who has gone through the change. It's just that the change commonly alters the persons' brain wave activity. Each changed person has different variation in the scans. Some will be faster than others; some have more activity or combinations of the both. The researchers have been keeping notes on the different scans in the hopes that it will enlighten us more about what it all means for you.

"They believe that it's the differences in the brain waves that are more directly responsible for the mark on your forehead. As you might have noticed earlier, your mark is different from Brittany and Noah's, just like their marks aren't identical either. It is extremely rare to find two people with exactly the same combination mark, or indicator as it's been called. In fact I think there have only been four recorded instances in the last hundred years or so."

Kurt's head was reeling and it was beginning to develop a migraine. He was desperately trying to absorb everything that Carole was saying. While the information itself sounded like it belonged in comic books, he couldn't help but trust that she knew what she was telling him was true, even though his mind was telling him she needed psychological intervention herself.

"Okay," Kurt said slowly, "so the marks, sorry indicators, are different, but both um, Brittany and Noah had similar markings. What does it mean? What are they even for?"

Carole grinned a little, happy to see that Kurt was so open and accepting about the information, usually it took a lot more convincing for those going through the change.

"Well, the indicators are just that, they indicate, first, who has been changed, and second, the image helps others know what sort of changes you have. There have been some promising correlations between the indicators form and how it affects the brain waves. With the help of individuals who are activated, researchers have been able to give us insight into the indicators classifications. They've been able to narrow down some classifications to specific abilities, which has been greatly helpful for the newly activated. Because we can't see yours, it would be very helpful if you could draw a picture of it so that we can try to determine your indicator class. Do you feel up to that?"

Kurt nodded and accepted the sheet of paper and pen from Carole and with his good hand he carefully drew the conical spiral shape inside a circle. When he turned it around he saw surprise on Carole's face, which she quickly muted with a more passive expression. A quick glance at his father showed that it was obvious that he was also struggling to catch up and understand this insane situation. Knowing his dad, he'd wait patiently until this was over and then ask Carol questions privately, not wanting to show his lack of understanding to his son. His dad was very proud, and wouldn't want to look weak in front of his son, especially since this was most affecting Kurt. Kurt saw Carole's lips twitch a little, as though she was trying to hold in a grin.

"Well, now it's clear what Brittany meant when she called you a unicorn. Though Lord knows, with that girl, it could have been anything."

Kurt just looked quizzically at her.

"Brittany is a very innocent girl, she's incredibly loveable but she has a tendency to believe in fantasy. After everything that's happening to her and the rest of those changed, why shouldn't she? This spiral shape, she has been calling it the Unicorn Horn, and she believes that anyone who has it is 'magical', like a unicorn. You probably noticed that she had this spiral pattern too?"

Kurt nodded, "Yes, but only the spiral. I have the circle with it. Noah had the circle, but inside of his there were lines, like waves."

"Yes! That's what I meant earlier, when I said it's rare to find someone who has exactly the same combined indicator. The research has only ever been able to find similar indicators; but it's always been single aspects of the indicator image, like how Brittany and you have a spiral, or Noah's matching circle.. You'd think there would be more common overlap indicators, but it's actually quite rare and usually linked with only one or more other indicators. A study on activated twins showed that their indicators were entirely different, while people with no relation can have similar markers."

"Why?"

"Well, because the main purpose of the indicator is to identify what skills or a talent a person has had activated from the change."

Kurt's eyebrows rose so high they almost became part of his hairline.

"What do you mean 'skills'?"

"Well, due to the structural changes on the genetic level, your genetic order is different than the standard human. Think about it, the standard human genome is different than that of a whale, or a monkey, and now your genome is different than, say, your dad's. This genetic structure dictates biologically what our bodies can do. Because you have a few extra pairs now, it means that you will probably be able to do extra things.

"It's been found that there are standard changes across all 'activations'. These seem to be a direct result of the changed DNA, such as the precognition and I don't know if you noticed it yet, but you have been healing much quicker than anyone else who suffered as you have recently. This is another standard change that has been seen in those who have been changed."

Kurt nodded, the bruises and injuries from the recent assault were healing much faster than when he used to be abused by the jocks. He'd just put it down to the fact that he was in a hospital and getting round the clock care. He didn't realise that his body was healing so much faster than normal. But, he reasoned, he shouldn't be that surprised, they told him his left wrist had been broken in 3 places, yet yesterday his doctor told him that they'd be able to remove it from the plaster in a couple of days. Kurt knew that it took more than a week to heal broken bones.

"Okay, I get what you mean, but what about this extra stuff? What can I do?"

"Well, as to that, I can't answer you completely. There is an individual at your school who's power basically determines what a person's abilities are, you will meet with her soon. What I can show you right now is the classification table that the researchers have generated. See, each image belongs to a certain category or field that determines the basics of what you can do. Some abilities are linked to another, mostly as a restriction on their ability."

Here Carole pulled another sheet of paper out of the folder and handed it to Kurt who eagerly read the contents. It was a basic table showing a picture of a single image and what field they related to. Kurt scanned the paper several times trying to absorb all the details –

**Cloud – Relating to Meteorological manipulation**

**Conical Spiral – Relating to Mind**

**Daisy – Botany Manipulation**

**Flame – Heat/Fire Manipulation**

**Hand - Touch**

**Heart – Emotions**

**Horseshoe – Attraction**

**Hourglass – Manipulation of Time**

**Snowflake – Cold/Ice Manipulation**

**Interlocking Circles – Molecular Bonds, varying number of circles equates to various types of bonds**

**Lightning Bolt – Relates to speed**

**Punctuation Marks – Relates to Communication/Enhancements/Warnings.**

**Single Circle – Encompasses the entire body**

**Square – four restrictions/enhancements on ability**

**Star – Astrological/Astrophysical**

**Triangle - three restrictions/enhancements on ability**

**Waves, Horizontal – Physical Density**

**Waves, Vertical – Physical Fluidity**

**Circle with half shaded – Manipulation of Light and Dark**

* * *

><p>"I don't think I understand." Kurt mumbled.<p>

"I'd be very surprised if you did," Carole smiled. "I can explain what Brittany's and Noah's abilities are as an example for you. I've known Noah for a long time, and Brittany's mom has been my best friend for years. See Noah's had these two indicators," Carole indicated to the circle and horizontal waves, "which means that Noah's ability has something to do with his physical density and it's used in conjunction with his entire body."

"Noah is actually a fantastic example, because the change has manifested itself into several different abilities, it's very unusual that a person will develop so many gifts from the change, but the theory is that all those gifts are in fact related to the person's physical density.

"So, in the case of Noah, he can move through solid objects without physical harm to himself. No matter the object; walls, cars, buildings; he just glides right through. If he didn't have the circle than perhaps he would only be able to do it with part of his body, like his hands. He would be able to push his hands into a wall, but he wouldn't be able to push any further in than his wrist. Do you understand?"

Kurt stared at the woman with wide eyes but nodded none-the-less. His superhero theory wasn't so far off base then.

"He can also make himself invisible and he can breathe underwater. Simply put, Noah can manipulate his body mass to whatever the situation calls for; he is also one of the few whose powers mean that he is untouchable by other people's powers. Of course, this isn't perfect; he may still be affected by something, just that in all of his exposure to others with abilities, he's not been affected yet. He is still in training, but as time goes on his powers will strengthen and he will have better control of them."

Kurt was gaping at the woman, what did a person say to that? There was so much in her statement that was incredible, unbelievable; he was at a loss of what to react to first. Without realising it, his mouth opened and said the last thing he was able to think about.

"What do you mean by untouchable?"

"Well, this is where we will use Brittany as an example. Brittany's symbol means that her power is solely focused within her mind, and her power is that of memory manipulation. She can make a person forget things. However, it's harder for the empowered to use their abilities against the changed. It is important that you understand, while it is rare and difficult, it's not impossible."

"Now, Noah's power means he is protected from Britt's ability. No matter how hard she tries, she can't get his mind to forget. So you can see how this can be very useful for him."

Kurt's mind was whirling with the positive possibilities of what he'd just heard and perhaps it was showing in his face because Carole shot down his train of thought immediately.

"She can't make you forget all that has happened to you." she gently spoke.

"Why not?" Kurt sounded desperate.

"This is a physiological change, there will always be reminders down to your most basic chromosomes, and she can't get rid of that."

Kurt slumped back against the bed feeling defeated, he'd give anything to pretend this was all just a dream and he'd wake up and everything would be back to normal. With a sigh, he asked his next question.

"So because mine is a mix of Brittany's and Noah's are my powers the same as theirs?"

"Probably not, like I said, these are just the basic classifications of what your power will relate to. Yours is quite unusual too, rarer than Brittany's in fact, because yours is a power that relates both to your mind and your body. I'm very interested to see what it is." She admitted with a grin.

Kurt knew that she was just trying to make him feel better, but in all honesty, he doesn't want any of this, so the fact that his is rare means nothing to him. Even amongst the 'changed' he was still an outsider, an anomaly. One thing bothering him though, was that he still didn't understand why Brittany's was so rare and asked as much.

"Well, as I said, Brittany's power is solely used by her mind. She can't make people forget just by touching them or anything. I know that there are other cases where a person's ability was a similar memory manipulation, but that ability was strengthened or restricted by the presence of a separate ability.

"For example, a person might have the conical spiral shape inside of a hand or a heart, which could mean that they could manipulate a person's memory only by touch or only in so far as their emotions. They could make them feel something for another person, or they could make them forget the hurt that was caused by another person. Do you understand?"

Kurt wanted to scream that of course he didn't fucking understand, none of this made sense. But he knew that would be counterproductive. If he accepted what Carole had told him about genetic changes, then he had to accept that these 'powers' came with it, as unbelievable as they are.

"I think so, but it's a lot of information." He admitted.

"Yes, it's very overwhelming, but once you start meeting the others it will start to make more sense. This really is more of a seeing is believing sort of thing."

"Well, a mental mind fuck can be nice." Kurt quoted.

Carole beamed at Kurt and spoke just as Burt was about to reprimand his son for language.

"You know Rocky Horror?"

"Yes?"

"It was one of my favourite movies when I was younger." Carole exclaimed.

That's when Burt realised what she was referring too. He felt a jolt in his stomach, simultaneously happy and sad. He was glad that Kurt was still quoted musicals even after all the time that he'd been silent, but sad too, because he would always have a special place in his heart for that specific movie. Rocky Horror was what he and his late wife went to see on their first date.

"It's a classic," Kurt admitted, "I do – I have some questions if that's okay?"

"I'm sure you do and we will go through them all, but I think we could all use a bit of a breather from this. I want you and your dad to be able to process what we've discussed today, and get some rest! You might be healing faster, but you still have experienced some significant physical damage. I don't want this to set back your health. I will come back later this evening, and we can continue, and I promise to answer your questions to the best of my ability. Is that okay?

Kurt understood where Dr. Hudson was coming from, but couldn't really see his father discussing this with him. Mostly because his dad hadn't talked about anything with him in so long. But, he could understand why she was forcing this break, as he could practically feel his brains start to seep from his ears. He wanted to get it all done at once, but he knew that he'd never be able to take everything in the way he should if that was to happen.

**As you've noticed, Puck is referred to as 'Noah' in this chapter, because I highly doubt that Carole would call him 'Puck' in a professional sense and Kurt is simply following her lead.**

**The RHPS quote is because I couldn't help myself - it's my favourite movie of all time so don't be surprised if more references pop up! :D**

**As always,**

**Love it? Hate it? Review and let me know why!**

**Mischievous Gleek**


	5. Revelations Part 1

**Yay for quicker update!**

**This chapter see's Kurt getting some answers about his elusive abilities and we meet a couple of key players too. Again, a little heavy on the dialogue side, but I promise the whole story is _not _like that and I've included a little fluff for you all too. :D**

**Beta'd by the splendiferous _Brellegenana_ - Without whom this story would probably have caused my mental health breakdown.**

**Warnings - No additional warnings except this chapter contains sci-fi themes. **

**Apologies - Apparently the formatting has changed any _Italic_ sentences so that the words all run together - FF Net Fail! I hope I caught them all, if not, my sincere apologies!**

**Disclaimer - I don't own Glee or it's characters, I'm just borrowing them for my own amusement.**

**Last time - Kurt had just been bombarded with information about the new 'reality' of his world... can he keep up?**

Kurt woke up and groggily cleared his throat, predictably, his father was right there at his bedside asking if he needed anything. _What __I __need __is __a __chance __to __wake__up __first_ Kurt thought bitterly. Blinking his eyes to try and clear the sleep from them, he glanced around his now very familiar hospital room. _Ugh, __this __décor __is __horrible_ he mused. He could hear the steady beeping noise from his heart monitor that was still attached to him. He'd asked Dr. Pearse if it was still strictly necessary with him being awake now. Unfortunately she said it was because of his injuries and condition.

Smacking his dry lips together and coughing slightly at his dry throat Kurt turned to reach for his ever present cup of water, only to find that his father was already holding it out to him.

"Thanks," he muttered in a cold tone.

Sipping at the water gratefully, Kurt noticed that they had delivered his lunch while he was asleep. He pulled the rolling table towards himself, realising just how ravenous he was and lifted the lid on his meal. He couldn't suppress the sneer at the now stone cold meal of lumpy mashed potatoes and some kind of mystery meat swimming in congealed gravy. The repetition of food was something he could handle when it was still at least warm, but now it just made his stomach turn. Glancing at the clock on the wall opposite him he noticed that he'd been asleep for the better part of three hours. _No __wonder __its __cold_ he thought as he unenthusiastically pushed his food around the plate.

"Yeah, I don't blame you buddy," Burt said quietly, Kurt pretended to ignore him as usual. "I, uh, I checked with your doctor, she said you can uh eat anything you want. So I can, if you want, I could go get you something else, anything." He added in the hopes of eliciting a response from his son.

For the first time since Kurt had regained the use of his voice he turned to his father and asked with animation "Really?" At Burt's emphatic nod Kurt thought about what he wanted to eat with relish until he remembered and slumped back against the bed.

"Oh, Dr. Hudson said she'd be back around 4 to continue." He answered gloomily.

Burt, not wanting to lose this his chance to actually have his son speak to him shook his head.

"Screw it Jay, you deserve to have a decent meal. I'll make sure they wait till you're done. So, what do you want?"

Kurt watched as his father had stood up and put his ball cap on, a sign from his childhood he remembered that meant his Dad was heading out. Not wanting to pass up the chance to get a decent meal Kurt thought for a moment.

"I want a medium-rare steak sandwich with caramelized onions and ranch dressing and fries, and can I get some French toast with icing sugar and some Peanut Brittle ice-cream with lots of hot chocolate fudge? Oh, and I want a really large mint choc-chip frappachino from Starbucks with lots of whipped cream."

Kurt surprised himself, he'd never been what you would call a big eater, especially of late, but for some reason he was completely ravenous and felt like he could devour an entire cow and still have room for dessert. Burt was clearly shocked as well, but whatever his boy wanted he would make sure he got it.

"Uh, yeah okay. Let me just write it down so I don't forget anything."

45 minutes later and Kurt was tearing into his sandwich with abandon, it pleased Burt no end to see his waif like son eating, and most of all, because _he_ was the one to suggest and provide to his needs. _I__'__ve __been __a __terrible __father, __but __I __hope __that __this __helps __him __to __open __up __to __me, __even __though __I __don__'__t __deserve __it_ he thought as Kurt took a long swig of his drink.

Kurt meanwhile was trying to control himself so that he didn't pop a boner; the food was just so _good_! Swallowing his mouthful he spared a quick glance to his father.

"Thank you." He whispered.

Burt just smiled and nodded his head, taking up his usual position beside his son's bed and tried not to stare as his son devoured the entire meal.

* * *

><p>As promised, Burt had herded Dr. Hudson out of the room until Kurt had finished his meal, not that she needed much persuasion, the look on her face spoke volumes about her approval that Kurt was showing so much enthusiasm for food. Though the sheer amount of it before the small teen was slightly staggering, she knew how much her own son could pack away in a single sitting. Growing boys and all that.<p>

After Kurt had finished his monster meal and cleaned himself up a little, he settled back against his raised bed with a contented sigh, the food settled, but he was surprised by a large burp that left him feeling slightly embarrassed. The ridiculousness of the sound coming from him struck him as funny for a reason even he couldn't identify, and a giggle escaped his lips before he could suppress it. Burt looked as though someone told him he'd won the lottery when he heard the giggle pass through his son's lips and gave a quiet chuckle himself.

"Thanks," Kurt spoke with a little more feeling this time, "I really needed that, and now I think I needed another nap." He admitted rubbing at his slightly distended stomach.

With another chuckle Burt answered his son, "You're welcome kid, but you can't sleep just yet. Dr. Hudson has a couple of people with her to talk to you now, they're just outside."

Kurt closed his eyes with a groan, so not in the mood for more information overload, but his eyes popped open and he sat up straighter when he heard his father's next words.

"She said that they are from your school and can talk to you about these powers."

With a dramatic sigh Kurt rolled his eyes, "Well, if I must, I must – I can't keep my public waiting." Smoothing out the bed spread and his hair he continued in a regal voice, "Show them in."

With another chuckle at his son's antics, which reminded him of the Kurt he knew before the death of his wife, Burt opened the door and ushered in the group of people waiting to speak with Kurt. Carole was accompanied by a curly haired man and what he thinks was a female in a full bio-hazard suit. He couldn't help but raise his eyes in alarm at that, a swift glance behind him saw that Kurt's expression was mirroring his own as he nervously fidgeted with hem of his blanket. What kind of person dressed in a bio-suit when meeting a teenager? Burt was beginning to doubt the validity of this individual's ability to help his son.

"Hello Kurt, how are you feeling now? This is William Schuester, he's the Spanish teacher at school and he will also be your "Leader"." Carol decided to lead this meeting, as she knew Kurt, and knew the signs for when he was becoming overwhelmed.

Kurt politely shook the offered hand as his eyes raked up to see that the man had an indicator too. This individual had a question mark in the middle of his forehead, which Kurt found oddly intriguing.

"And the astronaut wannabe is Emma Pillsbury," Carol added with a wink, "she's the guidance counsellor at your school but also works in conjunction with Mr Schuester." Leaning in closer and speaking in a loud stage whisper that everyone could hear she added with a grin, "Don't mind her Kurt, she has mysophobia, or germaphobia if you will."

Kurt, amused by the introduction, politely extended his hand to the new woman who recoiled as though he was pointing a gun at her.

"Emma!" Will exclaimed exasperatedly, "We've talked about this. That suit is not only highly un-necessary, but completely impractical considering why we are here. We're in a hospital for goodness sakes, the place is _sterile!_You need to take it off so Kurt can meet you properly. I know how difficult this is for you, but still! This is too much!"

Kurt shared an amused look with his father as he watched her shake her head nervously only to be meet with a stern glare from Mr. Schuester. Reluctantly the woman took several steps back and removed the helmet of the suit, tucking it under her arm, holding it protectively ready to put it back on at a moment's notice.

Kurt was further amused to see that she was wearing a surgical mask underneath, covering her mouth and nose. He took in the shock of vivid red hair and the large frightened doe eyes and felt sympathy for the young woman; he knew what it meant to be that fearful all the time, so he spoke in a quiet soothing voice.

"It's okay, I'm not actually sick, I just have physical injuries that are all covered up. I'm not contagious, and I'll respect any needs you have about this. I understand, promise."

Emma glanced over the boy to see that yes, while there were multiple bandages on him, the only sight that met her eyes was the fast fading bruises. Seeing the amount of bruising made her heart go out to the younger boy, he must be in so much pain. Emma, for all her eccentricities was a compassionate soul, which was why she went into counselling in the first place. For some reason, she instantly felt a connection to the young man in front of her; something told her that he knew what she was feeling. Taking a deep breath she removed the surgical mask as she stepped forwards and raised her still glove covered hand to offer a handshake. _Baby__steps,_ she reminded herself, and smiled warmly at the teen.

"Hello Kurt, it's nice to finally meet you."

"Hello, uh Mrs Pillsbury?"

"Just Miss., Kurt. Thank you."

Now that she was closer and without the helmet on, Kurt could see that she also had a question mark indicator, but hers was upside down which highly intrigued him.

"Why is your indicator upside down?"

"Well now, that's exactly why Mr. Schuster and Miss. Pillsbury are here to talk to you. So why doesn't everyone get comfortable while I explain what the plan is for this afternoon." Carole spoke up.

"So Kurt, I spoke with Dr. Pearse and we decided that it would be much simpler for you to meet everyone that will essentially be your support team all together, rather than spread out over time. Dr. Pearse, Nurse Ruth and I are all a part of the medical aspect of the team, as well as Dr. Lopez, who is the Chief of Staff of the hospital. He will be popping in a little later to introduce himself. Essentially he is a part of the team because this is your treating hospital and he can communicate directly with the researchers I mentioned in our last meeting.

"Will and Emma are another aspect of the team, as they are the two faculty members at your school designated to the activated students, and will be working closely with you there. There are a few others that you will be meeting a bit later, but I wanted you to meet Will and Emma first because they can answer some of those burning questions you have about your potential abilities. So I'll let Will explain what his role is in this and kind of explain the school aspect of this whole program." She finished with a smile.

Kurt looked to the curly haired man who he placed to be in his early 30's. He had seen him around the school a few times and he looked pleasant enough. He'd never had a reason to interact with the man, as he had taken French as his language elective, due to his past exposure to the language from his mother's family. However, due to Kurt's history with McKinley High faculty, Kurt felt an immediate distrust of the man. It was simply not possible for the entire faculty to be that unaware of the plight of the non-popular students, thus Kurt decided that none of the adults cared about him or the other outcasts. He knew that wasn't fair, he'd never interacted with the teacher so he couldn't have stepped in. Kurt supposed he would just have to wait and see and be on his guard.

Alternatively, which was strange enough, he didn't feel the same about Miss Pillsbury. Intellectually he knew that he should feel the same distrust towards her, after all, it is her job to be on the lookout for students who needed help. However, as Kurt watched her use disinfectant wipes to clean down the chair before sitting on it, Kurt reasoned that he could understand how fear can take over your life; all he felt was sympathy for the woman. It must be neigh on impossible to maintain her composure in a school full of Neanderthals who could barely walk upright, let alone maintain generally acceptable levels of hygiene. He also felt a little apprehensive towards her too, but as he felt that about all new adults, he would consider it minor for now.

"So Kurt," Will spoke pulling the teen out of his musings, "I know that you must be very overwhelmed by everything that's been happening to you. Carole has filled us in on what she's told you already, that way we aren't repeating ourselves to you. Emma and I are here for you, to give you a better insight into the different powers, specifically yours. Think of us as guides for your abilities, we're here to help you develop control and safety when using your abilities." He finished with a smile.

"You asked about Emma's indicator being similar to mine, only upside down. This is a fantastic place to start. I'm not sure if you remember, but the classification table that Carole gave you, anything to do with punctuation marks typically relate to the communication of powers."

"As you can see, mine is a regular question mark and my ability is what is called 'Power Mimicry'. What that means is that I can mimic another person's ability for a short period of time, mainly so that I can get a first-hand understanding of the power. This ensures that I can do my job, I'm called a 'Leader' within the empowerment community, if you will." He added seeing Kurt's question gaze.

"As Carole explained already, each school in America is set up with Glee Club as a front for an empowerment training facility. Each club has a Leader who is responsible for said training. I'll be able to help you understand your power and learn to control it, so that you become the master of it rather than the power mastering you. All Leaders will typically have the question mark indicator in some form."

Kurt nodded his head in understanding; he was genuinely impressed at the succinct explanation, so much so that he had to ask;

"How long have you been a Leader?"

"I completed my Leadership training in 2004. I know Carole told you that you will have five years of training, but leaders are required to have 10 years, due to the variety of abilities that we may be exposed to. I graduated from College in 2001, and I started working at McKinley as a teacher and a Leader in 2004. I've been there for a while now." He finished with a smile.

Kurt turned to face Emma, "So yours means you're a leader too? But, yours is inside a hand, so that means something about touch right?"

"Very good Kurt," Emma praised. "No I'm not a Leader per say, though technically I could be one if I did the extended training. But as Will is already the recognized Leader at McKinley, I've chosen to work in an advisory capacity."

"You see, while Will can mimic a person's powers, I am able to do something called 'Power Sensing'. We believe that is why my question mark is upside down. Will uses his power so that he can question what your power can do; mine means that I can answer that question for others. As you said, my indicator being inside a hand means I need to physically touch a person to sense what their ability is." She added with a slight tremor.

Kurt felt himself shudder in sympathy. For a germophobe it must be horrific to constantly have to touch other people to activate her ability. But he was far too interested in the meaning behind her words.

"So you can tell me what I can do?" he asked eagerly.

"Yes," she nodded with a smile, "to a degree at least. It all depends on the strength of the power, sometimes I can pinpoint a person's ability perfectly, and other times the power can be quite latent and not present itself right away. With training the power grows and thus makes it easier to determine. Sometimes additional abilities will manifest as well."

"Can you check me now?" he asked hopefully.

"That's why you are meeting with them first," Carole explained. "It will be easier in the group meeting for you to already have some understanding of your ability, that way the questions won't overlap. We don't want to overload you with more information than is strictly necessary at this time. You are still healing and there is plenty of time for the both you to continue learning after you've healed."

Burt nodded his head in approval, his first priority was making sure Kurt got better, after that they could deal with all this, but he trusted Carole's judgement on the matter.

"Okay Emma, you're up." Will spoke cheerfully, seemingly oblivious to the fact that this was highly stressful for Emma.

"Kurt, would you mind cleaning your hand thoroughly with some of these please? I know it's annoying, but I would really appreciate it..." Emma asked holding out the packet of disinfectant wipes.

Not wanting to put her under any more duress Kurt happily nodded and took the wipes, though it proved difficult to clean his left hand, as it was still encased in the plaster. Unsurprisingly, Burt held out his hand in silent offer to help him. Still a little reluctant to interact with his father, Kurt begrudgingly handed them over, trying to keep his expression neutral as Burt worked to clean his hands thoroughly, with a surprisingly gentle touch.

"While Emma is getting herself ready," Will indicated to Emma's preparations that included her own scrubbing of her hands, "why don't you tell us if you've noticed anything different about yourself, apart from what you told Carole earlier."

"No, I've not really noticed anything, I mean, nothing like what was on that table thing she showed me. I mean, I know that it has something to do with my body and my mind, which apparently is really rare. Being stuck in this bed since my activation probably limits me though. I mean I met Brittany and Dr. Hudson told me about hers and Noah's abilities, but I've not wanted to, you know, _try_ to do anything."

Will nodded his head in understanding, "That's for the best, and very responsible of you. A lot of kids who are activated can't wait to start trying to make lightning shoot out the eyes or something 'cool' like that. While the whole situation sounds like something from a comic book, it doesn't actually work that way. Also, with your injuries, it's important that you not push your body too much. I've seen what happens when a person uses their powers and their bodies aren't able to handle the new powers yet. I'm glad that you are being so careful. Okay, are you both ready?"

Both Kurt and Emma nodded; Kurt lifted his arm as though he'd just scrubbed in for a surgery, and calmly waited while Emma mentally collected herself. It took her a few attempts to breach the distance between them and clasp his hand in both of hers, closing her eyes in concentration. After a moment she gave a sharp gasp and clutched at his hands tighter, her face screwing up in concentration.

Kurt watched anxiously as Emma dropped his hand abruptly, recoiling back to the other side of the room as though he had bitten her, her already large doe eyes widening impossibly further as she fought to catch her breath. Instantly, his new the curly haired Leader stepped into her personal space, impossibly close whilst not touching her, murmuring words that Kurt couldn't hear.

Kurt felt his own lungs gasping for breath as though he'd run a marathon, which was strange, because he hadn't _felt_ anything; he supposed it was just the adrenaline pumping through him. A glance at his father and Carole showed anxiousness on their faces as they stared at the guidance counsellor. Kurt felt his own emotions start to react to the trepidation that everyone else seemed to be feeling.

"Emma, Emma; are you all right. What was it?" Will asked lowly.

Turning her large eyes onto him he saw they were steadily filling with tears. "I just need a moment."

Without waiting for a response the red head had turned and walked out of the room, not even remembering to put the gloves or helmet back on. This was enough to concern Will greatly as he wasted no time exiting the room after her, stopping only to pick up the disinfectant wipes on his way out. The three remaining occupants all glanced at each other nervously.

"What the hell was that?" Kurt exclaimed.

* * *

><p>Will found Emma pacing the hall outside of the room, her hands rubbing against each other furiously as she mumbled incoherently to herself, without a word he handed her the packet of wipes which she unconsciously took and immediately started a thorough cleaning of her hands, paying particular attention to her nails and the creases in her hands. After a few minutes she had calmed down enough, as he knew she would, to be able to turn her fearful eyes onto him. He indicated her to a seat in the hall unthinkingly, and was surprised when she sat down without preamble. He decided now wasn't the time to point out that she hadn't cleaned the chair first.<p>

"I've – I've never felt anything like it Will, and he's so _strong_ even though he has just been changed!"

"What was it? What happened?"

"I don't know what to call it!" She cried not used to being stumped by a person's ability. "It was like he just _disappeared_, but he didn't – I could sense him being _somewhere_ but I have no idea where!"

"Okay, just take a couple of breaths and let's sort through this rationally before we go back in there okay?" he waited until she complied inhaling deeply. "Okay, so we knew his power or abilities were going to be a bit different because of his indicator, the last person to have that was activated in 1956" he said nervously.

"Let's just work through this logically. Now you said he disappeared, like Noah? Can he make himself invisible?"

"No – with Noah I could still sense that he was _around_ just not visible. Kurt, it's like he was literally wiped off the planet!" not realising at the time just how true her words were.

"Okay, do you think it was something he does with his mind or with his body?"

"Both." She answered firmly, ignoring the raised eyebrows of Will, because she knew that her own brows had done the same when she first realised Kurt's ability.

"Wow, okay. Did you sense anything else?"

"I sensed a lot of – _falling_," she struggled for the right word. "But it was cold and dark and incredibly uncomfortable, like I was inside a vacuum." She added with a shudder at the memory.

"While he disappeared, I still had this vague sense that he was _near_, but not here at the same time."

"Do you think it's like teleportation?"

She shook her head defiantly, "No, not _here_ in that sense. I think the best way for me to try and explain it as similar to a Path walker." She admitted finally.

Will's eyebrows rose even higher. Path walkers were rare certainly, but not unheard of. "So you think he's travelling to the fourth dimension?"

Shaking her head slowly Emma tried to find the words to explain. "No, not exactly, this doesn't feel like that power does. I get a sense that he is _disappearing_ rather like a Path walker, but it's not the same. A Path walker is only travelling by their mind, Kurt – Kurt's whole body is going along for the ride, it's like he's travelling to a different time and different place, but not like other time-travellers, when he comes back, the world has moved on."

Emma was speaking more to herself than Will, as she tried to make sense of what she'd felt from the pale teen. Will was used to this, and he waited patiently while wracking his brains for anything that might help them to understand this. After all, they still had to go back inside to explain it to Kurt.

"What you said just now, about the world, do you think – maybe?" he asked trailing off.

He'd heard mention very briefly of the idea of parallel universes in the activation research, but they seemed to be more of an urban legend amongst the researchers. People who believed in this ability were considered to need to get outside more if their crack-pot theories where anything to go by. Unless – could they be right?

Emma gasped understanding his implications, "Will – Will that's it!" she cried picking up his hand and squeezing it tight. "That's what it is! He's able to travel between different realities! That's why I can still get a slight sense of him, because I must be there too in some capacity!"

Emma was back to pacing again as she started mumbling to herself, "we all are there, I'm sure of it! It must be like an alternate universe, otherwise why would I be able to sense everyone there through him? But it wasn't the same as it is here, the people I could sense were changed, there was more than one too. That's interesting and potentially problematic for the poor boy. But, what's the point?" she asked herself seriously.

Will stood up and broke her pacing by placing himself in her way without touching her, making her turn to face him. "Emma, slow down, I don't understand what you are saying."

She took a deep breath and looked into his eyes. "I think there must be more than one alternate universes, I'm sensing that there are lots of them. Some of these were not so different to our universe, but some – some are _very_ different." She finished.

Will felt his breath leave his body as he understood the implications of what she had just said. If Kurt can travel between all of the places she glimpsed...

"Is there a trigger? Can he control it?"

"There's always a trigger and I think in time, yes in time he may be able to control it, but for now -" she shook her head sadly.

"You do realise what this means for the boy right?" At her nod, Will did the unthinkable and pulled her in tight for a hug, Emma with the gravity of the situation went willingly – though of course she would ask the hospital for a decontamination shower, or three, before she left.

Sombrely the pair looked at each other, understanding everything that was coming, hoping that the boy who had already had less than perfect life experiences would be strong enough to handle the onslaught of what was to come. But they also remembered that they, along with the rest of Kurt's support team, would be there fighting tooth and nail on his behalf. They would be there to help him adapt to his powers, and hopefully see the benefits of all these changes.

* * *

><p>Kurt felt as though his stomach was steadily eating away at all his internal organs as he waited for the two adults to return. He tried to calm himself down by telling himself that her reaction was probably very ordinary. It can't be an easy experience to do what she does, but it was the concern from Mr. Schuester that led the traitorous thoughts against that reasoning. Something was wrong, very, very wrong. Finally after what felt like an age, the door opened and the pair entered, both looking a little nervous and Emma was also looking incredibly sheepish.<p>

"So...?" Kurt trailed off.

Will answered him with what Kurt assumed was supposed to be a reassuring smile.

"Sorry about that Kurt, sometimes it can get a little intense for Miss Pillsbury to sense an active power. Sometimes she just needs a moment to collect her thoughts and impressions from what she felt."

Deciding to play along Kurt just nodded his head and forged ahead anyway.

"So what's the verdict? What can I do?"

Here Emma and Will shared another glance; silently agree to proceed as they had planned.

"Well Kurt," Emma began, "You certainly took my breath away, that is for sure! You know that your indicator is extremely rare and I should have better prepared for that, so I apologise for rushing out and leaving you waiting like that. Your ability is actually very unique, so unique in fact that I can't name it, at least not yet." She hastened to add.

"Mr. Schuester and I will need to do a bit of research before we can officially 'name' your ability, but I can tell you what I experienced, and the basics of it. First of all, it's very strong, surprisingly so considering you've just gone through the change and not used this ability yet."

Here Kurt glanced at his newly assigned Leader who was nodding his head reassuringly at him.

"So what can I do?"

"Well please keep in mind that because we can't technically name it, it is much harder to explain it, okay? And you're going to need to try and keep an open mind for what I'm about to tell you."

Kurt slowly nodded his head, by this point; he was becoming used to the bizarre and figured he could handle whatever they told him.

"Okay, have you ever heard of the concept of 'Alternate Universes' or 'Alternate Realities'?" Kurt nodded his head. "Well, what I initially sensed is that you're ability would have you 'disappear' from this universe or reality. This is not like Noah's ability; you don't truly become invisible here, you actually physically and mentally leave this reality. It's something I've not heard of before as an actual power, so we could be wrong. This has been bandied about in the scientific community, and the science-fiction genre seems to utilize the idea of alternate realities in practically everything. But, this is important; I could still 'sense' you even though you had been removed from our reality."

Here Emma glanced at Will, she wasn't explaining this very well at all and so she implored him silently to help her.

"You see Kurt," Will broke in, "It has been hypothesized by scientists that there is an alternate reality, sort of like a parallel universe to ours, in which there are either minor or major differences from this reality. There may even be more than one; the number of universes could potentially be infinite. Emma believes that from what she sensed, you have the ability to travel to these alternate universes. The reason she cans still get a feedback from you is because in an alternate universe it's most likely that she is there too in some capacity. We theorized that this doesn't just mean Emma or even just those who have been activated, but all of humanity."

Kurt just gaped at the two trying to explain it to him. There's a different universe, possibly multiple universes, and he can go to them_?_Strangely, Kurt's first reaction was disappointment, because that was it? That was his super special and rare ability? He couldn't do any cool tricks, like turn invisible or mess with people's memories like Noah and Brittany? _Of __all __shittiest __of __short __straws,_ Kurt mused silently.

"Kurt, I know it's really hard to accept, but like I said, I could be interpreting it wrong because I've not seen or heard of anything like this before, but I truly believe that is what your ability is."

"That's it?" Kurt finally asked when he found his voice, "That's it? I can't do anything else? I mean, well – what's the point of that?"

"We honestly don't know Kurt," Mr. Shuester patiently explained to the clearly confused Kurt. "That's why it is essential you receive training; we will help you to discover a purpose for your abilities. But, I have to tell you now; because your power hasn't been seen before, we are all kind of in the dark here. It's a completely new entity for us and we still have to consult with the researchers."

"Well if neither of you have ever heard of this mystical power before then how did you come to that conclusion? It seems to be a pretty farfetched idea to me." Burt confessed.

"There have been some – theories," William explained carefully, "about travelling between alternate realities, but to the best of our knowledge, they are just that, theories. Outside mainstream sci-fi media, it hasn't been considered truly possible for a person to travel between dimensions or universes."

"Is there anything else you can tell me now?" pleaded Kurt. It felt like it had been an agonizing millennium since this activation was first explained by Dr. Hudson. These supposed professionals just kept extending the wait for the necessary knowledge about his powers and the effect all of this had upon him, and thus far he was incredibly disappointed. "I mean, why would I bother travelling to another universe at all? How can you be sure that I could even do this at all without getting hurt myself? Would it like a recon mission type thing in exchange with the government for this supposed training? Do I have a choice? How do I even do it?" Kurt fired off quickly.

"Kurt, what I sensed is that there was a vacuum-like experience that channelled you towards something that I can only currently describe as alternate universes. Now, typically we have found that newly activated powers will have what we call a trigger, but I can't tell you what your specific trigger for this power is. Perhaps in time after you have begun to use your ability, I may be able to help you find your triggers, but usually a person will discover these unintentionally."

"What do you mean?"

"Well – hmm, how can I explain it, I suppose I could use the Cheerio you met earlier, Brittany, as an example. After she went through the activation I could sense that her power had something to do with memory manipulation, but I couldn't tell her exactly what she would be able to do. We discourage people from trying to 'test' themselves for a variety of safety reasons. Brittany found that she could use her mind to make a person forget something, purely by accident. She had accidentally broken something in front of a person, and in an effort to avoid getting into trouble she said 'you didn't see that'. At the same time, she wanted those words to be true for the person, and the witness completely forgot about seeing her knock it over. We had to build her training from that experience, and discovered that fear was a strong trigger for her."

Will interjected one of the most important lessons that he felt he would ever teach Kurt, "That's why it's so very important that you are completely honest with us. The smallest things could happen because of your abilities or powers, and the more information we have the more we can help you."

"So you're saying that I probably won't have a choice about using my powers, but I could go between these different universes at any time?" Kurt asked terrified.

"It seems that way, at least at the moment. But remember, this is why there is training, to help you gain control over all of this."

"But surely – I mean, I wouldn't know what to do! You have to teach me!" He implored to Will.

"And we will, we will arm you with as much knowledge about your abilities as we can find. Until that time, I think it is best if you keep a journal or log of some kind with you at all times. This way, if you feel any slight change you can write it down immediately, that way we can try and find what your trigger is."

"But what happens if I go before you've found out, or trained me? Will I get stuck? Will I be able to come back here?" Kurt asked his eyes wide.

"If you haven't noticed any significant differences so far, than the chances are slim that you will travel before you are released from the hospital. Most powers and abilities take a little time to fully kick into gear if you will. Right now, your body is still healing from what happened, and that healing is means that your body is prioritising itself for that purpose rather than any functions of your activation, so for now, I think it's safe to say that you will be fine."

Carole, upon seeing Kurt getting more distressed as the conversation continued, decided that this was enough for now and stepped in to take charge again.

"Okay! Well I believe we all have a significant amount of information that we need to process now, so how about we call this meeting to an end? Kurt, I'm going to go set up the group meeting we discussed earlier, and then I'll come back in and you, your father and I can discuss everything we've gone over today. I don't want you to get overwhelmed or too stressed by this; we are all going at your pace, alright? If you need some time with your father to discuss this, or want to talk with any of us alone, you let me know, and I'll make it happen."

As she began ushering Will and Emma to exit the room, she continued, "Mr. Schuester and Ms. Pillsbury will be in the team meeting later, so if you have any questions, I think it would be beneficial for you to write them down for the team meeting. Some things will be covered by the other members of the team, but you should feel free to ask anything. We all realise that this affects you first and foremost, and we all want to help you succeed in discovering your abilities. Now, we will have a couple of hours break so you can freshen up and reflect on everything we've gone over thus far. The good news is that the meeting will be held in a conference room! I'm betting you can't wait to get out of this room for a bit." She added with a warm smile.

Indicating she would be back very shortly, she ushered Will and Emma into the hall and gave them the details where the next meeting will be held. She watched the instructors leave, overhearing their discussion regarding contacting researchers, and potential testing. Carole's heart went out to the bedridden boy; he was in for an even more arduous journey than even others who have been changed experienced.

With a sigh she headed in the opposite direction to go find Ruth. Ruth had mentioned that Noah had taken music lessons from Kurt's mother before she passed and that the two had been somewhat friends, Carole decided it was time that Kurt got to speak to someone his own age about it, and it was long past due that Noah stepped up to the plate to shoulder some responsibility. _Perhaps __it __may __even __help __them __both,_ because it was about time for Kurt Hummel to get a mentor.

**Love it? Hate it? Review and let me know why!**

**Mischievous Gleek**


	6. Revelations Part 2

**Okay - here is the next installment!**

**This chapter has a lot more humour and fluff. While there is still some angst you get to see Kurt's snarky nature we've all come to know and love come to light.**

**Things are starting to look up for Kurt and he gets a lot more understanding on what the hell is happening to him.**

**Massive, massive thanks to my courageous Beta (she has to be to take on me and this fic!) who has turned into my own personal history source! Lots of love for all her hard work on this chapter!**

**No additional warnings for this chapter, but I hope you enjoy the lighter side! :)**

**Disclaimer - I don't own Glee or it's characters, I'm just borrowing them for my own amusement.**

_**Last time - Kurt met with Schue and Ms P and learned discovered some interesting information about his own power.**_

The next morning Kurt spent most of his time staring at the window in his hospital room, cursing the architects for putting the only possible form of entertainment outside the television so high up that he couldn't see out of them from his bed. Mostly, however, his mind was occupied with trying to process the information that he'd been given yesterday, and there was a considerable amount of it. He felt like he was drowning in a vast pool of knowledge, desperately searching for a life raft or something to cling unto to stop himself from going under. While in his heart, he believed what Dr. Carol, and Ruth, and everyone else had told him in waves since he had awoken from his self-induced 'nap', his mind was continually shouting the insanity of all of this. How could all of this happen in the world and really nobody know about it? It's just an unfathomable story to believe without visible proof. While the 'indicator' was visual, who's to say this wasn't all just a psych test, like that Milgrim study; trying to determine if Kurt would subvert his own beliefs simply because a bunch of 'professionals' said it was so.

At that precise moment, the door to his room was flung open unceremoniously as Noah Puckerman bounded in, all cheerful smiles and cocky attitude. Kurt watched silently as Noah strode through the room like he owned it and plonked himself down on the armchair usually reserved for his father and unceremoniously put his feet, shoes and all, up on the bed. Kurt's horrific expression probably demonstrated to Noah just how he felt about his actions, as his eyes trailed up from the feet to see that Noah had also reclined back with his arms folded behind his head. When he finally looked Noah in the face, he immediately noticed, what Kurt was soon to learn, his trade mark smirk in place.

"Hey." Puck called cheerfully as though this was a regular thing between them.

Still slightly taken aback, Kurt gingerly moved his hand away from Noah's booted feet and folded them primly in his lap.

"Excuse me, but please remove your filthy shoes _off_ of my bed. Who knows what I may catch from them?" There could not be anymore ice in Kurt's tone.

"Geez! Take a chill pill dude." Puck called as he dropped his feet off the bed leaving a trail of dirty footprints in the wake, and continued grinning at Kurt like the Cheshire cat.

"Can I help you with something?" Kurt drawled in a bored voice.

"Nope, in fact, I'm here to help you." Grinned Puck.

_What __was __with __this __guy, __did __he __inhale __happy __gas __on __the __way __up?_ Thought Kurt, slightly creeped out by the constant shit-eating grin the mohawked boy was spouting. He was mentally debating calling the nurse to run a drug screen on Puck when his words sank in.

"Me? _You__'__re_ here to help _me_?"

"Yup." Puck popped the p sound.

"Sweet Mother Monster, give me strength," Kurt whispered to himself. "Look Noah, if you could just tell me what it is that you require and be on your merry way I'd like to get back to staring at the window ledge. I may even splurge and count the ceiling tiles."

"Puck."

"What?"

"Call me Puck; it's what everyone calls me." Puck shrugged simply. "I don't know if you remember me, but I used to-"

"Take piano lessons from my mother, yes I remember _Noah_." Kurt stressed.

"Puck – call me Puck."

"No."

Kurt watched as the grin slid off Puck's face faster than a slushie can drip down into your underwear to be replaced with disbelief.

"Why not?"

"Because _Noah_, you're mother gave you a perfectly respectable name and I see no reason not to use it. '_Puck,_'" He snorted, "What sort of name is that anyway?"

"It's a badass name!" Puck retorted angrily, "I'm the Puckasaurus!"

"Oh, would you look at that, I was right, you are a Neanderthal! Unfortunately they, along with dinosaurs, became extinct millions of years ago." Kurt retorted with a sneer.

"Who the hell do you think you are?"

"Oh, forgive me, how _rude _of me," Kurt said scathingly, "I'm Kurt Hummel, currently incapacitated and confined to a hospital bed."

"Geez, what's your problem dude?"

"First of all, don't 'dude' me. As you know my name, I would prefer you use it. Second, at the present moment _you_ are my problem. In case I didn't make it clear enough for you before, I don't want, nor need any of your help, so if you would please just be on your merry way." Kurt answered with an elegant sweep of his hand towards the door.

Kurt was astounded to see Puck settle himself back in the chair with another grin at his announcement.

"You're still a feisty one aren't ya? Good, that'll make this so much more fun. Anyway _dude_, no can do. I'm on strict orders to be here."

Kurt pinched the bridge of his nose with his good hand, glad that the plaster cast would be removed from his left later on in the day. If nothing else, he can at least be appreciative of the accelerated healing that seemed to have come with his glaringly obvious, unsightly new beauty mark.

"Excuse me? Why, pray tell, are you being ordered to be here?"

"'Cause I'm your awesome mentor."

"My what?" Kurt asked, not able to remember anyone mentioning that he needed, let alone been assigned a mentor.

"Yep, it's a pretty sweet deal actually. I get to skip school for this. Just have to go in for Club meetings, tests and stuff, but otherwise, I'm with you till at least the end of the term in a couple of weeks."

Kurt could feel the horror quite easily growing upon his face, especially if the widening of Puck's grin was anything to go by. _Why__me?__Why__him?_

"It's fine," he squeaked. Taking a deep breath to compose himself he tried again. "I'm fine, I don't need a mentor. I'll make a deal with you, you leave me alone and I'll tell them what wonderful work you are doing, okay?" he finished hopefully.

"Nah – no can do. My ma works at the hospital remember? And Schue and Miss P. will no doubt be popping in and out, even if they weren't, Ma and Mrs H. would know anyway."

"So basically, what you are saying is that I'm stuck with you."

"Doesn't it make you feel special?" Puck asked with another shit-eating grin.

Kurt slumped back against the bed, feeling defeated as he contemplated the new cruel twist that fate had generously bestowed upon him. _Its __okay __Kurt, __you__'__ve __gotten __used __to __people __ignoring __you, __this __won__'__t __be __any __different. __Just __pretend __he__'__s __not __there__._

Puck, however, appeared to be the type who couldn't take a hint and spent the next half hour keeping up a constant stream of chatter; Crowing about his luck at not having to attend lessons, rating the nurse who came in to change Kurt's IV on the 'Puckasuarus MILF/cougar' scale and finally complaining about the lack of activities.

"Should totes bring my X-box in next time, that'd be sweet."

Kurt rubbing his temple in an attempt to banish the steadily growing headache spoke his next thought a loud.

"Could always try lying." Kurt offered hopefully, to which Puck chuckled.

"Nah man, we can't lie in the Club."

Kurt rolled his eyes, "Oh yes, how silly of me, wouldn't want to disturb the delicate balances of the 'Kumbaya' sing-alongs."

"Nah, I mean we literally _can__'__t_ lie. Not really possible with Rach there."

That caught Kurt's interest, and judging by the smirk on Puck's face, he knew it would.

"Rach? Who's Rach? And why does she stop you from lying?"

"Ahhh – yeah, thought that might get your attention." He said smugly, "anyway, I'm not really supposed to talk about other people in the Club, confidentiality and all that shit."

"Oh come on," Kurt scoffed, "You expect me to believe that you really give a shit about that? You can't say stuff like that and leave it."

Before Puck could respond, the door opened and Burt walked into the room, laden down with bags of Kurt's breakfast, a perplexed look on his face seeing another teenager in his son's room.

"Excellent! Food, I'm totally starving dude." Puck exclaimed as he jumped up to relieve Burt of the take-out.

* * *

><p>After Burt had been sent on yet another food run, because dammit Puckerman – that was <em>my<em> breakfast, Kurt took the time to really study the boy, trying to determine what his angle was. It was fairly obvious that Noah had intentionally let slip that little fact about the Club to peak Kurt's interest, and now he was insanely curious. So what, his tactics worked, sue him.

"All right!" Kurt proclaimed, throwing his hands in the air, "I give in, are you going to tell me what's going on? What do you know?"

"Hmmm," Puck drawled, tapping a finger to his chin. "I don't think so, no, at least not yet. First I want to hear about you. You're a mystery for everyone, newbie. I've never seen Mrs H. so serious before, and Schue and Miss P. have been having lots of whispered convo's in secluded corners, though that could be Schue trying _again_ to get some." He conceded with a smirk.

"What? Are they together?"

"Nah – not yet at least, but everyone knows that Schue is hot for her, his marriage broke up because of it."

"Oh my! Really? When?"

"Not too long ago, his wife is like this total schizoid who faked a pregnancy! When Shue finally figured it out, he ended their relationship.." Puck's tone could not have implied Shue's cluelessness any more if he had specifically come out and said it.

"How did he find out the truth?"

"Rachel snitched, as always." Puck answered as though it was obvious, "she never has any tact about the stuff she knows."

"Rachel who?" Kurt asked again exasperatedly.

"You know Rachel; I know she used to get lessons from your Mom too. I wouldn't tell her you forgot her if I were you. She may shank you or something."

"_Rachel __Berry_! She was changed?"

"Yeah, that's why we didn't really talk to you after your Mom died. We honestly couldn't. We did feel really bad about it, dude. Well, I felt bad, not sure what Rachel felt."

"Wait, I'm confused. Why couldn't you talk to me?"

"Well, I – would you believe us if we had of told you back then?"

Kurt scoffed, "Of course not, but you didn't have to _tell _me about it. You could have just been there, been my friend."

"It's kinda hard for us not to talk about it. See, when you first get changed; your powers can be _really_ unstable, something to do with your emotions and adjusting. So sometimes I couldn't stop myself from going invisible, and Rach – well you know she's always had that big mouth of hers, she can't keep anything to herself, and unfortunately now she has lots more ammunition." Kurt interrupted Noah's explanation to determine what he meant by that statement.

"Why?"

"She's a telepath, she can read minds. Think Jean Gray, without the killer bod or Phoenix awesomeness." he added by way of explanation.

"Oh!" Kurt thumped back against his bed as the news of that washed over him. "Well now at least I know why you can't lie in your sing-along group."

"Yeah, it's a fucking pain in the ass. It wouldn't be so bad if she didn't have like this pathological need to _tell_ everyone everything. Rachel may be another hot Jew, but sometimes she just makes me want to light myself on fire."

Kurt froze at the meaning behind Puck's words. He had a lot of secrets that he didn't want anyone to know. He'd just have to be careful not to be around her, he resolved.

"So, uh – what happened to you?"

"How'd I die you mean?" Puck asked, shocking Kurt with his cavalier attitude about it. "I drowned."

"Oh Gaga! What – how?" Kurt spluttered.

" It was a stupid dare, happened after Labour day weekend, Finn and I were at a party and we were trying to impress a few of the high school football dudes and they dared me to jump off the roof of the pool shed into the pool. It seemed piss easy, so I went for it ya know? But I cracked my head against the edge of the pool and swallowed, like half the water before someone got me. The jocks just scattered, fucking pussies, Finn ran for help, got one of the parents who grabbed me out and started doing mouth to mouth. Apparently I died in the ambulance on the way to the hospital like three times. I even got shocked a couple times. But, I'm still here, in all my awesome glory." Puck finished with a grin.

Kurt was staring at him with his mouth open in horror, he couldn't imagine a worse way to die, drowning had always been a fear of his, never having learnt how to swim. Kurt tended to avoid pools and other bodies of water at all costs.

"Wow, I – I'm sorry Noah, I can only imagine how awful it must have been to drown." He admitted with a shudder.

"It's cool," Puck shrugged, "I was messed up about it for ages, wouldn't go near water and stuff. I didn't actually know I could breathe underwater till last year when they forced me into a pool as part of my 'therapy'" He scoffed. "Still, it's come in very, uh, _useful_since then." He added with a smirk.

Kurt wasn't sure he wanted to know the meaning behind that cryptic remark so just moved the conversation along.

"I still don't get what the big deal is. You know all the secrecy and stuff, why hide it?" He admitted.

"You met with the Berry's already, right?"

"Yeah," Kurt admitted, mind flashing back to the group meeting held last night in the conference room.

**_Flashback_**

"_So,__" __Carole __began, __"__this __meeting __is __primarily __for __Kurt __and __Burt __to __meet __all __the __members __of __your __support __team.__There __are __the __medical __personnel __like __myself, __Ruth __and __Dr.__Pearse, __who __you__'__ve __already __met. __Dr.__Lopez __here __is __the __Chief __of __Staff __here __at __Lima __Memorial __and __another __member __of __the __team.__"_

_Kurt shook hands with the Chief surprised that he was so young for such a prestigious position. Kurt placed him mid 40's, a handsome Latin man with a kind smile juxtaposed against a serious face._

"_You've already met Mr. Schuester, your club Leader and Ms. Pillsbury, the school guidance counsellor. These two gentlemen are John and Hiram Berry. As you can see, Hiram couldn't be with the group in person."_

_Here Kurt shook hands with a tall African American man dressed impeccably in an Armani suit, but was a little surprised that the second man was actually waving his hello from the laptop monitor. It was briefly explained that Hiram never left his house, and Kurt secretly couldn't blame the man. It was rather obvious why he didn't leave, as he could see the vicious scarring over the majority of his face, from what he would later discover was the result of a house fire a few years ago. Kurt tried to keep his expression neutral as he waved hello to the monitor. As he could not stand to be judged based on looks, there was no way that he would allow himself to judge Mr. Berry based upon anything less than his own merits as a person._

_"The Berry's and Dr. Lopez form the liaison team with the FBI department that is the 'hub' for all activation cases in the northern Ohio region__. Dr. Lopez is in charge of the medical and scientific research aspect of that position, while the Berry's handle the legal and public sector aspects."_

_**End of flashback**_

"So what did they tell you?" Kurt's musing was rudely interrupted by Puck, who obviously wasn't happy to have been ignored while Kurt recalled the team meeting.

"Um, they mentioned something about the National Security Act and that it was about public safety and um..." Kurt trailed off trying to remember what had been said in the meeting. It was during this part that he'd started to tune out, it was all so incredibly _boring_ compared to the idea of having 'super powers'. He did remember that his father got very animated around that point so he struggled to remember the specifics of what was discussed.

_**Flashback to the meeting**_

_"So are you going to explain what all this about?" Burt asked gruffly once the introductions were finished._

_"Yes, I think it would be best for Mr Berry to tell you how all this started, and then we can go from there." Carole indicated towards the only Berry physically present._

_"To begin with, history records show that as far back as the late 1800's people have presented with powers or extra abilities. It has probably been going on for a lot longer but we have no physical records of that. However, it is our belief that some of the most influential and memorable individuals in history may have activated powers. It has long been hypothesised that Joan of Arc was an activated seer, and that Cleopatra may have had some form of siren or possibly a 'succubus' ability, in her ability to manipulate men. One of the earliest activated powers to be studied was Harry Houdini. He was a master at physical manipulation of his own body." John began, "But, after it began to become clear to those in power that these activated individuals were increasing in numbers, and as more people became aware of the presence of activated people, the FBI had to intervene. It was around the time of the so called 'Roswell cover up'_ _in 1947, which the government decided to use as a cover for activated people within the area__. Public sentiment during that time was at an all time high, with most of the public running with a variety of conspiracy theories._

_"When people started showing up with abilities that were far too reminiscent of comic books and powers described in the bible, the government could no longer ignore it. So, they decided to mark all associated activation information as classified under the National Security Act of 1947. This isn't something that just anyone sees, this classified information is at the highest levels of government, and even congress and the president are unaware of the scope of this." _

_"So it's some huge secret government thing huh? Did they do this to my boy? Did this happen from some kind of testing they've done to the population, like the Tuskegee syphilis thing in the 1960s__? And now they are just trying to hush up the after effects by explaining it away as some spontaneous DNA thing?" Burt was clearly getting a good head of steam, about to rip into all present if this was all because someone decided to play god with his Jay bird__. _

_"No," Mr Berry answered with a chuckle to attempt to diffuse the man's justifiable anger, "and you are not the first parent to ask that question and you certainly won't be the last. It's inevitable that as a parent we automatically distrust the state in this situation. I know that when we experienced this with our child, I stayed angry at the world for quite a while. We wanted the absolute best for our baby, and suddenly everything goes upside down. All of this, it's not some huge conspiracy designed to screw with the people of this country. In fact, this whole thing is controlled by the FBI in what is known as the 'Department of Activations'' or 'D.O.A'_ _if you will, to minimize the general government's ability to misuse or abuse the individuals affected."_

Kurt remembered chuckling at this point, the irony of the acronym not being lost on him.

_"The division is protected by the NSA, ensuring that even the top government officials aren't privy to the information. The D.O.A.'s first priority is safety for people like your son. The act was specifically designed to keep the elected officials__ out of the picture; to avoid thos empowered individuals from being used, either against other countries, or possibly against our own citizens. The second reason is for public safety._ _Unfortunately, there are unscrupulous people in this country and the world, those who have been changed would become a high commodity for these individuals. However, all this doesn't mean activated individuals are immune to the more corrupt aspect of the human condition. Some will be tempted to abuse their power for their own personal gain, even if it is to the detriment of others. So naturally, individuals and their powers are watched over, purely to limit that possibility. Please believe me when i tell you this is not solely an American issue. Activated individuals are reported in at least every industrialized nation on the planet__. Some countries chose to institutionalize their activated people, treating them worse than prisoners. It has been reported that another country was lobotomizing their activated population, in an effort to minimize their affect on the general population. We may not have a perfect system here in the States, but we are trying our best."_

_**End of flashback**_

"They said it was for our privacy and also for the public safety."

"Yeah, that's about it." Puck nodded.

"I still don't get it though, why the hush-hush?"

"Well think about it, if the whole world knew that some of us had these super cool powers, they'd try and force us to do shit for them, like illegally. Did they tell you about what some countries do to people like us? Plus, I mean, you gotta admit, it's kinda cool here. If they told everyone about us, then a lot of powerless kids would try and kill themselves just to try and activate a power they may or may not have. Nobody wants some crazy mass suicides and shit. They are trying to keep kids from drinking the 'special kool-aid', you know?"

Kurt chewed his lip thoughtfully, he could understand that to a degree, though _there __was __a __large __portion __of __the __population __that __would __do __society __a __favour __if __they __just __took __themselves __out __of __it_, he mused bitterly. In fact, he could probably give a detailed list of individuals that are more chlorine in the gene pool than anything else.

"So, you know about my abilities, what did you get?" Puck asked eagerly.

"Versace save me, this wasn't a Gucci clearance sale Noah, this is _my __life_! Besides, they don't know what I can do."

"Whaddya mean?" He exclaimed indignantly, "Wait, you met with Miss P. right? So come on! What did she tell you?"

"They don't know what to call it; apparently I'm the high freak amongst the freaks." Kurt answered drily.

"No shit! Man, it must be something massive, did they tell you anything else?"

"Yeah, they rambled on about how they _think_ I might be able to travel to some alternate universes or something, nothing nearly as practical as yours. They made it sound like a bad knock off of some episode of Buffy, or possibly Star Trek" Kurt finished dejectedly, completely missing the way Puck's face lit up like a Chanukah menorah.

"No fucking way! Dude – that, that's like the coolest fucking thing ever! Man I wish I could do something like that!"

"Why though? I mean what would be the point?"

"Well, there has gotta be some really kick ass universes out there, and you could travel to them and get like all these ninja skills or something and just, yeah! Just think! That would be worlds full of women just there for Puckasuarus to bang!" Puck finished breathlessly.

"I hadn't really thought of that. Also, you're mind is a disgusting cesspit of raunchy smut" Kurt admitted, momentarily distracted with thoughts of becoming a ninja, gaining some devastating skills in self-defence. Let's see Karofsky just try to come at him again!

"So, how do you do it?" Puck's enthusiasm for Kurt's ability seemed to draw Kurt's interest in his powers out more than any team meeting or discussion with his father thus far.

"We don't know. I'm still kind of in the dark about it all. I think that's why it's so much harder for me to believe that this is all real. I just accept everything they've told me because I keep expecting to wake up soon and be back to reality. I mean, beyond this new beauty mark on my forehead, and the speed at which I've been healing, there's not really been that much obviously different about me."

"I know the feeling, but trust me, it's real. It's like ten sorts of crazy, but it's real. You get used to it after a while."

"So what happened to Rachel to make her change?"

"We don't really talk about that, I mean you can ask the person directly, but that's private you know? Some experiences are really intense, and some people don't like everyone knowing all about it. But you can probably guess Rachel's, I mean – you met her dads."

Kurt took a moment to let it click, "You mean the Berry's from my support team? They're her father's?"

"Yep."

"Carol said that one of them, the one that wasn't there, he stays at home because he was injured in a house fire, is that what got Rachel?"

"Yeah – They all were trapped, but Rach had it the worst, the fire started in her room and she got trapped. She's totally okay though – no scars or anything thanks to the healing, but her Dad's weren't so lucky. The man at the meeting – John? He's got burns all along his arms and torso, but at least he can cover those up. Not Hiram though, he got hit full in the face, it was really bad. At first, they weren't sure if he was going to make it, to be honest."

Kurt felt his stomach roll unpleasantly at the thought of all three being trapped in a burning building, especially Rachel being trapped in with it. Hearing about Noah's and Rachel's brushes with death was making him feel ashamed at his own selfishness. There were all these people in the world who were thrown into these horrors everyday; some like Noah and Rachel where then thrown straight into this dizzying vortex of this new reality. Kurt felt the lump form in his throat as he tried to blink away the moisture forming in his eyes.

"So what about you dude? What happened to you?"

With shame making his voice croak, Kurt lifted up his arm, still covered in bandages, "I – uh, I tried to off myself." He admitted focusing on his bandaged arm, rather than see Noah's face at his confession.

* * *

><p>Kurt finally couldn't stand the silence any longer, and glanced up to watch as Noah's mouth fell open in shock, his eyes glued to Kurt's bandaged covered wrist. To be honest, he was still waiting for the moment when Puck and everyone else just left; obviously he wasn't worth all this trouble, these people had to realize that eventually. The silence stretched on, well past being awkward as Kurt shifted guiltily in his place on the bed. Thankfully right at that moment, Dr. Pearse arrived and announced it was time to remove the plaster cast from his left hand.<p>

Kurt's sigh of relief was short lived though as his nurse Ruth came into the room pushing a tray of equipment. Kurt very much liked Ruth, and it was sure to be awkward with her son, who just so happened to discover that Kurt had tried to take his own life. Kurt understood that the hospital staff had to remain professional, but he couldn't shake the feeling that he wasn't worth their sympathy.

"Good morning Kurt!" Ruth called blithely. "My goodness! What happened to your bedding?" she asked seeing the dirty boot prints. Without waiting for an answer she glared at her son who seemed to snap out of his stupor and actually looked sheepish. "Noah, for that, you can go and get a new set of bedding from the supply closet and you can remake the bed. Hop to it! You've got to be on your toes with that one Kurt. My loveable miscreant." She added to him with a cheerful grin.

Kurt managed a small smile in return and allowed both women to help him up from the bed and place him in the armchair that Puck had just vacated, rolling a tray table up to him as they prepared to remove the brace from his arm.

"We may as well do it here since you had to get out of bed to change the sheets, I'm sure you'll relish the chance to move around a little." Ruth kept up a constant stream of pleasant chatter.

By the time Puck had returned with a fresh set of bedding they were just removing the final remnants of his plaster cast. Kurt stared at his arm while he used his other hand to scratch the dry skin, relishing in the lightness he felt. Dr. Pearse had begun flexing his fingers and wrist gently and he was surprised at how tender all the tiny movements felt.

"This has appeared to have healed up very nicely Kurt. I'll take you down to X-ray just to check over it, and your ribs, just as a precaution. But I must say, at this rate you'll be home before you know it!"

Kurt managed another small smile for their benefit. Truth be told, he didn't want to go home. If he did, it would just be him and his dad there again and Kurt didn't think he could survive the silence again after having so many people take an active interest in him. They loaded him up into a wheel chair and Dr. Pearse took him for his x-rays as Ruth and Puck remade the bed and cleared up the remains of the plaster.

After getting the all clear from x-ray, Kurt was returned to his room. He was surprised to see that Puck was still there, sitting in the armchair with a rolling tray table drawn up in front of him and what looked like several school books spread out before him. Even more surprising was that Ruth was standing over her son chastising him, apparently, part of the conditions for Puck to miss classes meant he still had to do the work each day.

Once Kurt was settled back in the bed, Dr. Pearse had instructed Ruth that the rest of his bandages could be removed, so long as he understood the necessary precautions to take to ward off possible infections. In actuality, most of his wounds had basically healed to the point of being gone. He only had a very faint scar on the insides of his wrists and some minor bruising on various parts of his body.

"All your vitals are looking good Kurt; I'm going to refer you on for some minor physiotherapy, just as a precaution because you've healed so quickly. You will have your counselling sessions with Dr. Hudson too, which will continue past when you leave our care. But by the looks of things, my guess is that you'll be able to go home in about 2-3 days if everything stays on track." She finished with a smile.

After Ruth had finished removing all his bandages she had leant forwards and spoken to him seriously. "Now Kurt, don't let Noah push you around, he knows the rules and he knows exactly what will happen if he doesn't obey them. Keep an eye on him for me will you?" she finished with a wink, ignoring her son's scowl as she left the room.

A heavy silence hung in the air after the door closed, Kurt couldn't bring himself to look at Puck, instead focused his attention on flexing his fingers in his lap. Finally, he couldn't bear the silence anymore.

"I'm sorry." They both said at the same time.

Kurt's head whipped up to stare with shock at Puck who had an identical expression on his face.

"Why are you sorry?" They both said again.

Kurt let a small smile form on his face which turned into a small giggle; Puck chuckled nervously along with him.

"Okay, so why are you sorry?" Kurt finally asked.

"Because – I shouldn't have said what I said about people you know..." he trailed off indicating to Kurt's wrists. "Why are you sorry?"

Kurt let out a big sigh and flopped back against his pillows. "Because it all seems so stupid now. After hearing what happened to you and Rachel and her dads. It seems pathetic really, but I can't help but thinking I should just do it properly, you know, save everyone the drama -"

"No!" Puck shouted. "You can't – it's not, just don't okay? You have to promise me!"

"Why do you care? Oh, of course, then you'll have no excuse to miss classes." Kurt added sarcastically.

"No, it's not that, it's just, argh! This is so frustrating!" Puck had jumped and started pacing around the room running his hands over his Mohawk. "You can't do that, it affects all of us too now. You can't even say that to us." He finally calmed down enough to say.

"What do you mean?" Kurt was genuinely perplexed; he'd really only just met Noah again.

"See we, everyone in the Club, we're all like – connected. If you do that, it will affect all of us really bad."

"But I've not even met the others, if they don't know me then they can't, I don't know, _mourn_ me or whatever."

"It doesn't work like that! This, this is something Schue should tell you, it's something they usually tell you later on, but with your you know _history_, I guess they just didn't think about it."

Kurt was struggling to understand the other teens ramblings, his eyes followed Puck as he started pacing again, muttering to himself to quietly for Kurt to hear.

"Noah, would you just sit down and tell me what the fuck is going on?"

Puck locked eyes with Kurt and Kurt could see the pain and torment in his hazel eyes, but at least he'd stopped pacing. He watched as Puck drew a deep breath, as though resolving himself.

Puck sat back down on the couch and muttered to himself, "Okay, I can do this. I can."

Kurt watched apprehensively, whatever it was, was obviously causing the other teen distress so he thought it best to let him get it out on his own terms.

"Okay, you've gotta let me do this, no interruptions, ok? First of all, like I said, we're all linked together. I mean like a physical and an emotional link. It's really hard to explain, you'll understand more when I'm not here because then you'll be able to like 'sense' it or something. But, whenever one of us is in pain or like hurting, we all feel it; like it's happening to us on some level.

"I don't mean like if you break your arm we all get broken arms, it's more like a mental pain for us, but it _feels_ real. Like that phantom pain thing vets talk about. And, and when someone d-dies," Puck sucked in a gasp desperately trying to keep control of his voice. "It's – it's like a _part_ of us has died too, like there is just this gaping black hole in your chest that kind of suffocates you."

"That's how I felt when my Mom died." Kurt admitted quietly, silent tears falling down his cheeks. It was the first time he'd spoken about his mom to anyone since her passing.

"Exactly – we're like, like a family, only it hurts so deep, and affects every one of us. If you die, I don't think any of us could cope with it, not again." He added in a whisper.

But Kurt caught it and the associated implications, and gently asked, "Did – did someone in the club die?"

Puck just nodded his head eyes trained on the floor.

"I'm sorry Noah," Kurt spoke with feeling, "It's okay, you don't have to talk about it if you don't want to."

"I – you'll know about it eventually, but I – I just can't, not yet." Puck pleaded with his eyes and his words.

Kurt nodded his head, "its okay." He felt a strange surge through himself, a feeling that he wanted to protect and comfort the mohawked teen and it threw him. For the last three years he'd only been concerned with keeping himself going, protecting himself. It was strange to want to extend that to a boy that he hardly knew anymore.

"I – I think I might know what you mean, about the connection." Kurt added by way of explanation. "So can you and the other's 'feel' me right now?"

Wiping the tears that had formed in his eyes away with his hands Puck nodded. "I can feel you probably better than the others because I've spent some time with you. The closer you are to a person the easier it is. But the others will be able to generally get a feel from you now, some more so than others because they're stronger; they've had more time to adjust to their change."

"Wow." Was the only thing Kurt responded with. It gave him a warm feeling inside that there really were other people who connected with him on a deeper level now. He was so used to being alone; it was going to take some time to get used too.

"Yeah," Puck chuckled, "I know what this means for you."

And that right there was enough to make Kurt break into the first true smile he'd worn since before his mother's death. Because Noah really _did_ know what Kurt meant. Finally there was another person with whom he could relate. Puck was slightly stunned to see the smile light up Kurt's face, but he had to admit it was a definite improvement.

"Oh! Ah, your dad, he called while you were down in X-ray. He said he was on his way and wanted to know what you'd like for lunch. He said to tell you he'd just get the same as yesterday if that was okay."

Kurt's face lit up even more if that were possible, with the prospect of real food again, but mostly it was starting to hit home that maybe his dad did care about him. After all, he'd taken the trouble to remember to get Kurt some lunch _and_remember what he'd had the day before. Kurt felt himself starting to breathe a little easier and it was a wonderful feeling. After feeling lost for so long in his pain and lonliness, he felt like someone had finally _seen__him_and cared enough to offer him the path back to his life.

"Don't like the hospital food huh? Yeah, don't blame you." Puck stated with a grin, having no idea just how much he had helped Kurt in that moment.

* * *

><p>Kurt's eyes lit up at the sight and smell of the food that his father carried in, there seemed to be so much more of it this time though.<p>

"I, uh, figured that Noah would still be here so I brought some lunch for him and me too. I thought it might, uh, give us all a chance to sit down and chat, if that's okay with you." Burt spoke quickly.

"Sweet! Thanks Mr. H! I'm starving!" Puck enthused as he rushed forwards to help unload all the bags of take out.

Burt was still watching his son to make sure that he wasn't over stepping any boundaries with him, but the small tentative smile directed at him was like a breath of fresh air.

"Thanks dad, that's great."

Burt just barely controlled himself from beaming at the knowledge that Kurt actually addressed him and in a polite manner. Soon the food was divided up and even Puck was astounded by how much there was.

"Seriously, you ate all that just for lunch yesterday?" he asked, slightly revolted when Kurt shoved a handful of fries into his choc fudge sundae before popping them into his mouth. "Dude, you eat like a pregnant chick!"

Kurt, having the manners his mother instilled in him, didn't deign Puck's statement with a verbal response, merely settling with a thrown glare towards the mohawked teen. Of course, his disapproval was made slightly ineffectual by his current chipmunk appearance, as his cheeks were stuffed with his lunch.

"So Noah, tell us a little about the training, how long have you been receiving it?"

"Three years," he spoke before letting out a huge belch, "Ah, better out than in, right? Training's not so bad; mostly we work individually with Mr. Schue or Ms. P. They help us to discover our abilities, and really help keep track of them and stuff. Mostly we learn about our triggers and how to control them."

"And they use a Glee Club as a front? Is that right? How does that work?"

"It's pretty sweet actually. I've always like music, so it's nice to have some time to chill out with it. Because there are like real competitions and stuff we actually have to be able to perform, so they included it in our timetables. During class times we are just a Glee Club, that way if people are walking past or anything it doesn't look suspicious. We have the proper training scheduled as the after school meeting. So the class is really split, it's a graded class, but it's also considered an extracurricular activity, which blows, because they make us keep the rest of our grades up to keep the cover."

"So everyone can sing? Is that because of the change?" Kurt asked feeling slightly uneasy.

"Nah man, some in the club can't sing at all and others can sing really awesome – like me," he added with a smirk. "But Schuester thinks that it's better that way, it looks more 'real' or some sh-thing like that."

"So what do the others do?"

"Well some are really awesome dancers and some play instruments, but basically they are in the background singing or just mouthing during the competitions and stuff." Puck said before tearing into his steak sandwich with a moan.

"You should fit right in though dude, I remember you used to have a really awesome voice. You could totally hit those crazy high notes that used to make Rachel cry." Puck said spraying the ground in front of him with food.

Kurt wrinkled his nose in disgust at the teen's poor table manners "I – I don't sing anymore." Kurt admitted before he stuffed a mouthful of the sandwich into his own mouth not able to stop the slightly sexualized moan at the orgasmic taste.

"Why not? You were awesome dude! Tell me you still play piano?"

Kurt just shook his head, after his mother died, music was too painful a memory of her for him, so he'd cut it all out from his life. He knew that it would be hard, forced to pretend to be a part of Glee Club; he vowed to speak to Mr. Schuester about it, see if there was some way around it.

"So Noah, how many kids are there in the Club?" Burt asked, trying to steer the conversation into safer waters.

"Nine, including myself," Puck spoke before thumping his chest to help the food go down.

"Wow, that's – that's quite a lot." Burt answered with surprise.

"Nah, not really – one school over in Carmel has like over 20 people in. I know there are others with even more." Puck answered taking a long draw through the straw of his drink. "Man, this food is like freaking awesome! I'm so stuffed though. Dude, how can you still be eating?" Puck asked eyeing Kurt steadily making his way through the French toast now.

Kurt merely shrugged, "I don't know, I just know I'm so hungry all the time! Also, so help me Noah, if you call me dude again, I'll get you, I swear."

"I spoke to Dr. Pearse about it," Burt admitted sheepishly, deciding to ignore the second statement his son had vehemently exclaimed "she said it's because your body's healing so quickly, it's burning up all the calories faster so you have to up your intake to replenish it."

Kurt knew he should be offended that his dad had spoken to his doctor behind his back, two days ago and he would have been furious, now however he couldn't find it in himself to care either way.

"Huh – I guess that makes sense." Kurt admitted while pouring some of his melted sundae onto the French toast, much to Pucks slightly revolted amusement.

"Noah told me on the phone, but I can see they finished removing your cast, that's great little Jay!" Burt enthused.

"Yeah," Kurt flushed with embarrassment at the use of his childhood nickname in front of Puck. "They also took off the bandages, see – they said I could be released in a couple of days if all goes well."

"That's great!" Burt exclaimed happily, pleased to see his son getting better. "We'll have to do something to celebrate your coming home." But Burt caught sight of his son's less than happy expression at the mention of home. "Hey, what's wrong?"

Kurt flicked his eyes over to Puck, who probably for the first time in his life exercised a level of subtlety previously unseen from him.

"I'll just go dump all this in the trash, and I have to go catch up with my Ma about some school stuff, so I'll be back in a moment." He added before scooping up the piles of rubbish and exiting the room.

Kurt sucked in a deep breath, he really didn't want to have this conversation, least of all with his father, but he couldn't see any way around it.

"I – I don't want to go back there." He admitted quietly.

Kurt watched his father's face fall and realised how his statement could be interpreted given his cold shoulder treatment over the past few days. Despite their recent distance, Kurt actually liked talking to his father today, it felt – well, it felt _nice_, so he hastened to explain himself.

"It's just that – everything that happened there, I – I don't think I could cope you know? Too many bad memories."

Burt's face lightened considerably as he listened to Kurt's broken explanation, he couldn't blame his son's reasoning either, it was a struggle for him to enter that house and have to pass by that bathroom every day without his blood running cold at the thought of how close he came to losing his son.

"Okay, well – I guess I can understand that," Burt began slowly, thinking of options. "I guess it's time that we plan a move then, what do you say Little Jay?"

Kurt's head snapped up to lock eyes with his father. "Are – are you serious dad? You'd do that – for me?"

Burt reached forwards and grabbed both his son's hands, thankful again that the plaster had been removed. "Kurt – you are my son, and there is _nothing_ I wouldn't do for you." He stated firmly his eyes illustrating his seriousness. "I know the past few years have been – rough, and that's my fault. I didn't step up when you needed me to. I can never express how sorry I am for that. But you are my sacred gift Kurt, and the whole point of having something sacred is that it takes precedent over anything else. So, yeah maybe – maybe moving would be for the best, a fresh start for the both of us. What do you say?"

Kurt threw his arms around his dad's neck in a strangle hold hug, Burt froze in shock for a second before responding to the hug with a ferocity to match his son's. He could feel the warm wet tears leaking onto the collar of his flannel shirt and held his boy tighter than before, praying to a god he's not sure he believes in anymore that everything would be okay now. Eventually, both Hummel men pulled out of the hug and surreptitiously tried to dry their eyes.

Clearing his throat Burt spoke, "Okay, so that's settled, we'll move. Now, it can't happen in two days, so we will have to figure something out for the mean time, but how about I go and contact my accountant and we can see where we stand financially. You can help me pick out a new place. That way it's both our homes, equally."

Kurt's grin lit up the room, "I'd like that, a lot. Thanks Dad."

"You're welcome Little Jay."

**Awwww - Burt/Kurt start to reconcile! I couldn't keep them apart too long - I love their relationship too much!**

**As always - **

**Love it? Hate it? Review and let me know why!**

**Mischievous Gleek**


	7. Crazy Days

**Sorry for the delay and thank you all so much for your patience! I don't have any one (good) excuse so all I can do is apologise that life and the weather simply got in the way. I hope that this chapter makes up for it!**

**This chapter is broken into different journal entries by Kurt, please be aware that they are to be read as being dot point form and not as full journal entries. **

**No additional warnings for this chapter, but things are definitely moving forwards now. :)**

**Beta'd by the truly patient Brellegenana who consistently motivates and inspires each and every chapter. The amount of work you have and are investing in this story truly warms my heart. So thank you! 3**

**Disclaimer - I don't own Glee or any of it's character's, I'm just borrowing them for my own amusement. **

**Monday 17th May, 2010**

_* 3rd day of liberation from the hospital._

_* I slipped in the shower this morning, and I felt a strange 'swooping' motion in my stomach, rather like being on a roller coaster. It's probably nothing, but they said to note down any and all little variations in my normal functioning. I'll talk to Noah about it when he gets here._

_* I found a few potential houses for Dad and I to look at today, I'll be glad to find a new home and get out of this hotel._

_* I still cannot believe the hospital wouldn't release me until Carol had scheduled my therapy sessions. Don't I already have enough going on, why do they think it necessary for me to talk about all the bull shit that happened before this? Dad wasn't really any help; he had one 'moment' with Carol, and now he thinks she's the best thing since the trucker hat was popularized. I mean, I know what I did, but honestly, what makes anyone think talking about it will help? Blah. I can't focus on this right now; I need to get us a new home!_

Kurt closed the new laptop his father had purchased for him and flopped backwards onto the stiff hotel bed with a sigh. He was so excited when he was released from the hospital; he was finally afforded the freedom to leave those four walls. Unfortunately, fate had merely changed the location of purgatory to a two bedroom efficiency apartment at the Lima Holiday Inn. He was under strict orders not to leave the hotel unless he was being accompanied by a member of his support team, due to his inexperience with an activated power. Despite the plentiful tacky decor burning his retina on a comparable level to the horribly inhospitable hospital room, he was still in fact _bored._

He knew his dad was doing everything in his power to make the move go as quickly as possible. He'd hired movers who had already packed up their old home as well as the landscapers in to fix the defaced lawn and now the house was on the market. It was a little harder to organise finances for purchasing a new house, not having sold the old, but he and his dad had reached the compromise. If they downsized the house, purchasing one that wasn't as new or as big as their previous home, then they would be financed right away. His dad's business was very successful, and his dad had told him they didn't need to worry about money. The purchase of a house though, was such a large expenditure in today's economy, and his dad simply stated he just didn't want to bite off more than they could chew financially, especially with college coming up, as well as any other debt that may befall them. Kurt was happy to go along with his reasoning, so long as it meant getting a new home.

Burt had also done everything he could to help Kurt pass the time. It seemed as though he'd walked into the nearest Best-Buy and brought just about every electrical gadget the sales associate advised as 'must have' purchases for the average teenage boy. He was now the slightly mystified owner of not only the laptop, but also a second generation I-Pad, a PSP, a PS3, a high definition surround sound system, and an X-Box. He also pre-ordered the I-Phone 4S, as the sales associate pointed out the fact that would be out in October, it had several program options that would be more beneficial for Kurt, as well as the fact that if he upgraded now, he would be unable to upgrade Kurt's phone to the 4s until his current contract expired. Of course, these purchases and upgrades weren't even taking into consideration the multitude of movies, music and games his father had splurged on. If Kurt had to guess, he'd predict that his father probably covered the employees' yearly sales quota in one shopping extravaganza.

He'd bought a multitude of books and magazines of every kind for the I-pad, to hopefully give Kurt a variety of options to occupy his free time. Not to mention the essay's the school had sent home in place of the end of year exams he would sit had he not been so grievously injured. But despite all the material possessions, what Kurt missed the most right now was company. His dad had offered to take time out of the shop, but Kurt refused, knowing how important it was for his dad to be physically in the shop, to ensure it was running smoothly. It was just crazy though, he'd gone years with having practically no one to talk to, happily in some cases, and in the space of a week and a half he'd become used to the inundation of people to talk to. Even the night duty nurse who would chat for a moment on her rounds was better than this silence. Kurt glanced at the clock and saw that Noah should be arriving any minute now with their lunch order, courtesy of Burt of course. Kurt felt a little bad that his dad was spending so much money on him lately, but he secretly liked the attention and didn't want it to stop. It's not like he was some spoiled brat! Besides, this wasn't the first time his dad had gone overboard on gifting. As the only child of two reasonably well off adults, he had received a fair amount of gifts when his mother was still alive. He'd never demanded any of it though, or really any material possessions or anything, at least not once he exited toddlerhood, so it was okay – right?

Just as Kurt began to become depressingly introspective on spoiled only-child syndrome, and his possible status as one, he heard the lock releasing as the door swung open to reveal Noah laden down with the bags of food. He also had his backpack, under protest of course. Noah had gotten a lot of grief for not completing his class work, and Schuester had threatened to revoke his mentor status, as well as the skipping class privileges associated, if he didn't buck up and complete the assignments given. Kurt already had pretty stellar grades, thanks to his lacking social life, and minimal distractions, so he was only required to complete some replacement essays. But he helped Noah complete each daily task, as it was only fair since Noah was only missing those classes due to his involvement in Kurt's activation. This freed their time to play games, or watch movies whenever they could agree to a genre.

"Hey dude," Puck said shaking excess water off his mohawked head. "It's like, pouring out there today." Oddly enough, Kurt had not realized the weather outside, probably due to the fact that his support team deemed it too dangerous for him to roam alone.

In the short time since Noah had been assigned his mentor, Kurt felt that they had reached an unspoken level of camaraderie and routine, which was pleasant. It reminded Kurt of the time before the loss of his mother, which while nice, also brought back everything he had truly lost when his mother died. Though they still did argue over Kurt's instance in always addressing the mohawked boy as Noah, rather than by Puck, feeling that it was immature and disrespectful to Ruth, ignoring the chosen name she gave her first born. Today was far too relaxed to continue the bickering, thus without further conversation both boys set out the food and dug in, with only the occasional remark regarding their food. Kurt found that he was thankfully eating less than what he was in the hospital, but it was still a rather large amount compared to what he was used to prior to the assault. Then again, he'd barely been able to keep food down before all this, and would practically never eat due to fear at school, and loneliness at home, so he didn't really have a basis of comparison. Well, except that Noah was now eating more than him, something the muscular jock was quite proud of, and pointed out. Often.

"So, what'd you get up to this morning?"

"Not much," Kurt admitted with a shrug. "I found a few more properties to look at with dad, there's one that I think would be good, but I can tell there may be a battle happening. I want to try and convince dad to let me have the basement, and I'm not sure he'll agree."

"Why the basement? Not that that wouldn't be totally awesome."

"Well the place is only a two bedroom place, and the second bedroom is really small, barely fitting a bed. The rest of the house is perfect for what we wanted, and I was thinking he could turn that into an office for himself. The basement is huge; I mean it runs pretty much the entire span of the house, and it's partially finished, which is a big bonus. It's already got a bathroom, which would be great for me, as the only other bathroom is on the second floor. Plus, you know, I just think it'd be nice to have my own space, a sanctuary of sorts. From everything."

"Do you think Burt will go for it? I mean, lately all you have to do is hint at having interest in something and he's already got it ordered for you, but – that's a pretty big request. I mean, especially since there are plenty of other houses that could be just as nice, without you having to be in the basement."

"Yeah I know. There's a lot of work that would need to be done to make the basement appropriate for a bedroom, but the house itself is a steal, much lower than the price range he originally specified, so that should help cover the cost of any additional construction. And, I know we could probably do the work together, so we really wouldn't need to hire someone else or anything. But I...I think the hardest part will be the separation aspect. I mean he really doesn't like leaving me alone now, and if I have my own bathroom after, well you know..." Kurt trailed off, not wanting to rehash his actions after the assault. "Ahh, speak of the devil" Kurt added picking up his phone, indicating he had a new message. He honestly could not wait to get the new phone his dad pre-ordered. There was just something creepy about his current phone, especially since he knew that Burt had been forced to clean the blood from the jock assaults off the screen and keypad.

"Well, it must be about 11:30 right? Your dad is way too predictable." Puck asked with a chuckle.

Sure enough, the time read 11:32 a.m. Burt had finally brought himself a mobile phone during his crazy over purchasing, for the specific reason of keeping in touch with his son. Although Kurt was unaware of it, his father had also already contacted all the local clinics and hospitals with his new number, ensuring that Kurt would no longer be able to redirect calls related to his health. Burt had started sending multiple text messages under the pretext of 'learning' how to use the phone. Kurt, not being an idiot, knew that his father was just checking up on him, secretly warmed at the thought that his father was trying to show his dedication to his son, although Kurt was still leery of trusting in his continued support. After everything that had happened since his mother's death to the assault, he realized that his ability to trust those who claimed to care about him was jaded. But Burt's predictability with messaging had become somewhat of an inside joke between the boys. Burt sent a minimum of four messages a day, all at roughly the same times.

"Yep," Kurt answered with a grin. "This time he's telling me about the crazy dude that runs the hardware store a couple stores down from the shop. Apparently he blew out both front tires in a challenge issued by a customer, that the nails he sold weren't long enough to pierce through drywall, let alone tires."

"That has to be that Grady dude; I swear he is like the stupidest person on the planet! The football dudes are always playing practical jokes on him; he falls for them every time." Puck added with a smirk.

Puck noticed that Kurt had visibly tensed at the mention of football. It had become rather a touchy subject between the two. When Kurt found out that a few of the guys in the Club were on the team he'd had a panic attack, and it took a joint counselling session between both Kurt and Puck with Carole mediating to get Kurt to open up enough to confide in Puck why he reacted so badly. When Puck found out the full extent of what those dicks had done to Kurt, even before the final assault, he'd been furious and wanted to go rip their heads off. Luckily for them they were still being held at the juvenile corrections facility.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to upset you man. I swear the guys in the club are cool; we'd never do anything like what happened to you, not to anyone. We'll protect you when you go back to school. You'll see! We totes even have a name, we're the Glocks. It's glee with Jocks. The Cheerio girls are Gleerios! I promise, it's gonna be better when you come back."

Kurt offered a tense little smile and nodded his head, "I know – I'm sorry. It's just that I got a phone call from Officer Jenkins earlier; they have to schedule a follow up or something. Something to do with preparations for the Jock's trials, because if their lawyers decide it would be better to separate their cases, I could actually be forced to testify in each case. I gave her dad's number. I just – I don't know if I can go through with it. I don't want to face them again." He admitted with shame.

"I know it must like royally suck dude. But I think you gotta... you gotta face it, face them. Otherwise it will like always be hidden or something. It'll eat at you, and stop you from being who you really are. It's like with my fear of the water – I'll tell you a secret, but you can't like tell anyone! Ever! Cause it would totally ruin my rep! Did you know that I wouldn't even take showers? Don't even get me started on taking baths." Puck saw Kurt's slightly disgusted but wide-eyed stare. "Yeah, I used to only have like sponge baths and stuff. It's why I shaved my head too, my Ma used to wash my hair for me and after the accident, I couldn't take, like the water pouring over my head, totes freaked out. I only grew in the 'hawk after I got over the fear, before that – bald as one those eagle things."

Kurt obviously couldn't help but let out a small chuckle at that. Puck felt proud of himself. He'd never told anyone apart from Mrs. H. and his ma about the true extent of his fears(it was not a phobia, no matter what Mrs. H said!), but he was glad that he'd told Kurt, especially if it would help the kid.

"You don't want to live in fear dude; I know what it's like."

"I do know" Kurt whispered.

"Yeah, yeah I know you do," Puck said with a small smile before adding cheerfully, "so, ready for me to whoop your ass in Mario Kart? I'll let you play pretty princess Peach"

"Nice try," Kurt chuckled opening his laptop again, "homework first." He insisted with a grin as Puck pulled his out of his bag with a dramatic sigh.

**Tuesday 17th May, 2010**

_* Going out to look at the houses with dad and the realtor today! We had to wait for someone from my support team to be free to come too—pain in the ass to have to synch multiple schedules. Man, I will be so ecstatic when I regain the liberty to walk around without a damn baby sitter._

_* First house – Bust. It smelled like cabbage. Don't even ask about that stain I swear I saw on the stairs._

_* Second house – Bust again. Dad didn't like the neighbourhood... neither did I frankly after the next door neighbour crossed herself at first sight of me. Unfortunately I am all to use to that behaviour in this stupid poor provincial town._

_* Dad's not totally convinced on my pick yet—must increase pouting and sulking. Wants to keep looking, argued the kitchen was too small. Not like he cares about that, he can't cook; he just doesn't want to approve my basement plan. I'll talk to Carole about it tonight in our session. I don't care if she thinks this therapy will help get our 'issues' resolved, I expect her support for my living arrangements!_

"Good evening gentlemen," Carole smiled brightly as she stepped into the hotel's tiny living room, "how has your day been? You two went house hunting, right?"

"Yeah," But answered gruffly seeing as Kurt was currently sulking silently in the armchair. "You'd think that it would be easier to find a decent place in the area."

"What about you, Kurt? How are you finding this whole process? Any issues either of you think we need to address in this session?"

Kurt heaved a heavy sigh, "This is all exceptionally tiring. I personally found the perfect place for us, but dad doesn't like it because of my idea."

"Well, it is important that you both agree on the place, especially as your dad is giving you leeway in the selection of the new home." Carole conceded as she accepted the cup of coffee from a visibly grateful Burt. "Why don't you each explain why you think the place is good or bad, and then we can review each opinion? Burt?"

"Well, I guess the place itself isn't so bad, a little on the small side, but it is in a good neighbourhood. Plus, it's close to the garage and the school, so that's a bonus." Burt admitted, "But the second bedroom is really small and well – Kurt had this idea that I don't really think is a good one."

"What was your idea Kurt?"

"I suggested converting the basement into my bedroom, but dad said no. He wouldn't even discuss it." Kurt added sullenly.

"Ahh, I see," Carole could immediately identify what Burt's concerns were, and they were valid. It was important that both men have an open flow of communication though, and this was the perfect setting to begin building those skills.

"Well, I think that this is a good base topic for tonight's session. You both want to be able to talk to each other openly and honestly. You also want to be _listened_ to by the other. So, I'm going to listen to what you each have to say, then help both of you understand what is really going on, hopefully showing each of you how to understand what the other person is really saying. Now, Kurt, why don't we start with you; can you tell us why and how you came up with your idea."

"Well," Kurt began slowly as he sat himself up straighter, "I guess at first, it was the best place I'd seen out of what was available in the price range dad set. Even though it is a bit smaller than our old place, I think that would be better in the end. I mean we were both just rattling around in the old house, so it was easy to just pass each other by." Kurt added, not above using emotional blackmail if he had too. Now that he'd seen the basement, the concept of a basement bedroom solely for himself flush in his mind, he didn't want to give up.

"So I looked at the house from all angles. I knew that the second bedroom would be way too small, and I was just going to pass over the place, but then I saw that the basement had been remodelled a few years ago and had a bathroom in it now. That sort of gave me the idea that it could be turned into like a studio apartment, and so I thought, why not? Dad could use the second bedroom as an office, that way he could bring paperwork home to do rather than at the garage and give us more time together, even if he is still technically working. I could even help out, I know enough about computer programs that I could help him with the inventory and billings stuff from the shop. I just thought it would be awesome to turn the basement into my bedroom. Dad, you know we always bicker about our shows, and with Deadliest Catch on Tuesdays, you know we're going to have problems since the Good Wife comes on at the same time. I could have a second TV downstairs, that way we both can still watch our own shows when they clash! Plus, having the second bathroom for myself means that I wouldn't be tying up the other bathroom when you need to use it. Also, you could probably restart the poker night for the shop, if you wanted, and wouldn't have to worry about bothering me. The ceiling is sound proofed, which means I wouldn't hear anything."

During Kurt's speech, Carole had to work at keeping a neutral expression on her face, though inside she was smirking. Kurt was very good at manipulation, and knew exactly what to say to tempt Burt into going for the house. However, she wasn't going to let Kurt off that easy.

"Okay, that's sounds reasonable Kurt, but now it's your dad's turn. What are your concerns, Burt?" Carole asked as she watched the older Hummel lift his ball cap, running his hands over his bald head.

"I'm just worried is all; I mean why does he need that room? If Kurt has the basement as his bedroom, well, that's pretty removed from the rest of the house, and everything. I don't want him to feel withdrawn from me again, I want to make sure that I put in the effort this time, and I'm concerned that the temptation would be there for him to shut himself up in his room. I wouldn't be able to even hear him down there if he was hurt, or needed something. It really is such a large space too and it would cost a lot of money to get it all fixed up the way he wants it. I don't know why he would need so much room either, I mean at 16 I was lucky to get to keep my bedroom door in my house, my parents were always worried about us kids becoming introverted hermits. Besides, isn't the stereotype the kid who never leaves his parents basement, who's to say Kurt will ever want to leave if I let him have the basement? I just - I really don't want him to get hurt again. I want to make sure I'm there from now on for him." He added uncomfortably thinking about the bathroom incident.

Carole nodded her head as she scribbled notes down, understanding Burt's perspective as a parent herself. "Okay Kurt, you're dad raises a good point. Is there any reason why you are so keen to have the basement converted?"

Kurt paused for a moment giving careful consideration to his response. He really hadn't even thought about what concerns his dad had, he just believed his dad didn't want him to have the basement. "I guess because I'm just a little overwhelmed by everything that's happened. I mean – I went from being completely alone, nobody there, to having so many people take interest in me, and the need to talk to me about everything, sometimes I just wish I had a place for myself you know? A-a sanctuary of sorts. And I know it's just going to get worse once I start with the club and training and everything. Noah's told me how they all treat each other like family, and I'm not sure I am ready for that. I'm not sure I'm ready for any of this. At the moment I feel like I'm just struggling to stay afloat in this tide of insanity. I know it's all real, that I need to know this stuff, but at the same time, I desperately need some space to decompress. While it's nice and all to have so many people involved in my life, it just feels like too much sometimes. It's like I feel like I need to _ease_ my way back into it or something. Plus, with everything that Noah's been telling me about the musical aspect of the club, I'm going to need space to practice the routines in. I need the extra space, for my training, but also for the G-glee club,"

Kurt stuttered on the word. He was incredibly worried about the glee club aspect of his new life. He still wasn't listening to any music, and he still planned to heavily lobby to get out of the show choir aspect if at all possible, but if he could use it as an excuse to get what he wanted now, he would.

"And I know that there is cost involved, but because the house's value is significantly less than dad's original specifications, I thought that the savings there could be used in the conversion. I mean it would increase the value on the house itself too. Plus, we could work on it together, just the two of us, like we used to work on the cars at the shop." Kurt finished his pitch on a more confident note; certain that the emotional blackmail would be the push his dad needed to cede to Kurt's wishes.

"Okay, Burt how does Kurt's opinion and explanations affect your outlook on this? Do you have any concerns that haven't been addressed?"

"I'm still worried Little Jay. I want you to know that I'd do anything for you, but it's my job as a parent to look out for what's best for you long term. I haven't done a very good job since your mom passed, I know that. But now, if you are hidden away down in a basement, how can I do my job? I don't want to risk losing you again is all. I couldn't take losing you, Kurt."

Kurt shifted uncomfortably on the couch at the abject suffering in his father's voice. He logically knew that they'd bring up his attempted suicide again; he realized that he was never going to live that one action down? None of that knowledge made this discussion any easier, though. Taking a deep breath, Kurt opened his mouth to begin the conversation he should of had ages ago with his father; he'd briefly spoken to Carole privately about his reasoning for trying to take his own life while he was still in the hospital, but he'd not felt truly comfortable enough with his father to actually tell him what drove him to that level of desperation.

"Dad – it's okay, I get it." Kurt began quietly, "I get what you're worried about, but you don't have to be anymore, okay?" Kurt added earnestly. "The main reason I tried to – you know – was because I thought they were one beating away from killing me themselves. I just – they'd already taken so much from me. It wasn't about my sexuality, not really. It may have started that way, but the level of hatred they had in their hearts for me, it was the only thing I could see anymore. They took parts of me, every time they insulted me, every time they belittled me, beat me, that when they attacked me on our own front lawn, I just shattered. I couldn't find myself anymore, they took that from me. After everything that afternoon, I wanted to be the one who took something away from them; I wanted to make sure they couldn't take my life from me. I didn't want to give them the satisfaction of killing me."

"Oh Kurt!" Burt surged forward to embrace his son, "Don't you see though, by doing that, they would have truly beaten you? And it would have been a perfect victory for them – because they couldn't and wouldn't be held accountable for any of it. If you had killed yourself, everyone would have just ignored what those boys did, until they actually did succeed in killing some other kid. There would have been none of the consequences they should face. Their lives would just go on like none of this ever happened, and they probably wouldn't even remember any of it in 20 years time, but you – you'd be gone and I couldn't have lived with that!" Burt sobbed into Kurt's hair.

Kurt patted his dad's back awkwardly, not used to such intense displays of emotion from his 'manly' father. He looked to Carole for guidance and she just smiled softly and nodded her head, telling him this was okay.

"I know dad, I see that now, I know that I was wrong to do that to everyone. Carole and I talked about my...suicide attempt. She helped me see that I was just too overwhelmed with everything, and couldn't take the idea of facing that any more. I couldn't see past the immediate issues to see the bigger picture, and I couldn't see any support or help, and I know you want to help now, but you weren't there at the time, and I couldn't see that changing for anything."

Burt pulled back and tried to surreptitiously wipe the tears away from his eyes, his voice gruff and thick with emotion.

"Kurt, you will never fully understand just how much I do love you. I know you think I'm not there for you, and you were right, but I am now. Little Jay, you're my son, my baby songbird; I can't do anything but support you. I will do better from now on, I promise you. Anything you need, truly need to be in a better place, I'll do my damnedest to make sure you have it, regardless of anything else. But buddy – I need to know what happens if those jocks or some other punks start harassing you again? I know how teenagers can be, and I just can't want to risk you."

"You won't dad." Kurt spoke forcefully; clearly surprised by the amount of emotional baggage his dad was carrying around from all of this. He knew his dad loved him, logically, but to physically see how this has affected him touched Kurt deeply. It didn't solve all of their problems, but it did show that the work needed to correct their distance would be worth it in the end. "Things are different now, they have to be. I have people to talk to, people who are actually talking to _me,_listening to me. I – I don't feel so alone any more. But I am beginning to feel like I'm being smothered! I need to be able to have some space sometimes; you have no idea how hard it is to go from silent isolation to this all in a few of days. I'm working on it I promise – and I won't shut you out again, as long as you can promise the same."

"What do you think?" Burt turned to Carole, "Is it a good idea or not?"

"This isn't about my opinion, Burt. I'm here to help you both with all these issues, but this is about the two of you, not me. This is what you can do for one another, with one another, and what you feel is beyond your abilities to manage. Kurt has told you how he was feeling when he hurt himself, and his needs to get better in the future. You Burt have told Kurt how you feel about him becoming isolated again, and your dedication to him. These are both important for your overall relationship health. I think you both have valid concerns about the issue of the basement room, but I also believe it might be a good way to re-establish new boundaries and routines in your parent-child relationship. You both obviously are trying to see this from the others perspective, which is excellent, now it's just an issue of compromise and trust. There is always a compromise for any situation, so long as you both can trust one another. Kurt, I know you want this room, and you do have valid reasons beyond the material, however you shouldn't try to play off your father's guilt to get what you want. I believe you truly want a relationship with your father, something you cannot gain from manipulation of his emotions. Your dad messed up for a while, he admits to that, and can only work to regain your trust and respect, but you shouldn't abuse that. Your dad can be your greatest strength and support, but only if you truly work to rebuild your relationship. I honestly believe the both of you would benefit greatly from individual and family counselling. I'm willing to work with you both to help you deal with all of this, but only so long as you are invested in having a trusting relationship with your dad.

Burt, I think you should take from this that while you are currently guilty and overprotective for obvious reasons, you need to recognize how overwhelmed Kurt is truly feeling right now, and acknowledge that."

"Okay," Burt sighed, realizing that Carole was making them make the decisions in all of this "I'll think about the house, I'm not saying it's a yes, I'm just saying I'll think about it. I wasn't taking your feelings into consideration, and I'll try to do that more, so long as you recognize my concerns as well."

Kurt beamed, the idea of having the basement all to himself was an idea that had taken hold in him and he really didn't want to let it go. He was more than willing to try and find compromises as long as he got the basement. He was aware that a lot of what Carole had said was true, and that he needed to work on those aspects of himself, at the moment he was just barely keeping his head above water, but he did promise himself silently to give his father a true chance to hopefully make things better.

**Friday 20th May, 2010**

_* The papers have been signed! The house is officially ours! Dad caved on the basement, with the agreement that the doorknobs have no locks. I balked for a bit, but dad explained how worried he was about the whole thing, and really, it wasn't that bad a compromise for the WHOLE BASEMENT!_

_* Contractors are starting tomorrow with the plans I drew up for the basement-they said it could be done with the work in plenty of time for us to move in properly next week._

_* Stupid dreams! I rolled over this morning and cracked my head on the bedside table. I will be so glad to get out of this damn hotel bed! Even the hospital bed was better, and that's truly saying something! But, at least it didn't even bruise thanks to my new mutant healing prowess._

_* Noah had exams today, so he's not been by at all. Never thought I'd actually come to miss the miscreant._

**Saturday 21st May, 2010**

_* Went to the hardware store today to pick paint and tiles for my new bedroom and bathroom—I finally selected the Dior white. It's just very classic, and it will work with my decor strategy._

_* I swear, I feel like a five year old. I can't go anywhere without a 'chaperone' from my support team with me. Like it's a big deal if I go to the fabric store! I've been assured this is only until we find my 'trigger'. At least I'm not on 24 hour watch I guess._

"So dude – Sorry, _Kurt_" Puck corrected himself at Kurt's glare, "You never told me how you got your dad to agree to all this." Puck said referring to the partially finished basement they were currently sitting in.

"It was Carole mainly, we talked it out and I told him why I really wanted the space. We finally came up with a compromise."

Puck screwed his brow up in concentration, "This is like – huge though! What sort of compromise did you have to make?"

"Dad was mostly worried I'd hurt myself again or that we'd drift apart, so rule number one – no locks and rule number two – we have to spend more time together."

"Doing what?"

"Well – before mom died, we always had Friday night family dinners; dad wants us to do those again. I used to hang out with him at the garage whenever mom was busy. So you are looking at the newest part-time employee of Hummel's Tyres and Lube."

Kurt was rather affronted at Puck's outburst of laughter at that, "Seriously? You, a grease monkey? I would pay to see that!"

Kurt tilted his chin up defiantly, "Yes I am mechanically inclined, do you have a problem with that? I have known how to take apart and re-build an engine since I was ten years old."

Despite being impressed with this new tid-bit of Kurt history, Puck couldn't help teasing the pale teen even more; "Yeah, but won't that like wreck your new skin care thingy?" He asked with a snort.

Not deigning to verbally answer such a foolish question, Kurt settled for throwing a brand new pillow at Puck's face.

It had become the latest and greatest source of teasing from the mohawked teen, Kurt's newly instated extensive and highly intensive skin care regime that took an hour and a half which he completed faithfully both morning and night. Kurt's mother had always told him that skin care was important and before her death, Kurt remembered numerous occasions watching her going through the daily ablutions process with a sort of wonder. He had always loved his mother's skin, like his it was pale, but he remembered how soft and smooth it was to the touch. With nothing better to occupy his time nowadays, Kurt had started one for himself after extensively researching the different products and procedures online. He told Puck and his dad that it gave him something to do, and it reminded him of his mom, which immediately ceased any complaints Burt may have original had. What he didn't tell them was how he hoped that it would eventually remove the faded scars of his violent 'past life'. He privately referred to the various scars from both the bullying assaults and his own suicide attempt as something from his life before his activation.

**Tuesday 24th May, 2010**

_* Met with Mr. Berry again today. Had to discuss details for the trial, I'll be glad when it's over._

_* Dad let me buy the new furniture for my bedroom today. Decided the fabrics and focal features should be white with small black accents! It complements the colouring nicely._

_* School lets out tomorrow, so I should plan accordingly, something tells me that Noah is going to be around more often. I wonder if I could..._

**Thursday 26th May, 2010**

_* Officially moved into the new house. Lots of unpacking to do. Noah doesn't realise it yet, but he's been drafted for the heavier lifting and grunt work._

"Dude, this totally rocks!" Puck exclaimed looking around the spacious basement in admiration.

Kurt had to agree, it turned out even better than he could have imagined. The light 'Dior Grey' walls and contrasting furnishings really opened up the space so it looked even bigger. His extremely large king sized bed was positioned opposite the stairs, and his new smoky glass top-desk was tucked into the alcove beside the stairs. He had a large white leather couch set up on the opposite end of the basement facing a large stretch of wall, the future home of the brand new entertainment centre that was being delivered and installed later during the day. He also had a few other chairs including a hanging bubble chair that Puck was not, for lack of a better word, playing in. He had a large bookcase waiting to be filled as well as a large vanity on the opposite wall to his large walk in wardrobe, already partially stocked with his facial 'lotions and potions' as Noah dubbed the various crèmes and serums.

The door to his ensuite bathroom was beside the wardrobe and Kurt was incredibly pleased with the final design. It was done in tasteful modern black and white decor, and housed an opulent Jacuzzi tub large enough for two people and a party shower with three massaging shower heads that could fit up to four people comfortably. Thankfully, the bathroom already had these features; because he was pretty sure his dad would never have agreed to spend the money on an 'orgy bathroom'. Noah really did need to expand his vocabulary; honestly bordello bathroom was at least a lovely alliteration. Although Kurt didn't have anyone to share the shower with, he also did appreciate having the very best of everything available. Kurt guessed that his dad viewed the luxuriously white bathroom and bedroom as possible incentives for Kurt to not try and kill himself down there. Well, he was right about that at least thought Kurt with a smile.

It was a long day filled with lots of heavy lifting and unpacking. Puck was frustrated within an hour due to Kurt's 'nit picky', possibly obsessive compulsive ways. Kurt told him once it everything was done he would get first use of the gaming consoles that were now hooked up to the huge plasma TV. By the time that they had finished unpacking Kurt's bedroom it was after 7:00 pm and Burt came downstairs to advise both boys that Puck had permission to stay the night if he wanted, so long as his mother knew. Since Puck didn't have any exams the next day, Ruth wouldn't have a problem with that deal, especially once she heard Burt was going to order pizza for dinner. Puck shocked Kurt when it was time to go to bed, rather than accept the blankets Kurt had prepared for him on the couch, Puck insisted on sleeping next to Kurt in Kurt's new bed.

"What? That bed is freaking huge! The both of us could totally fit on it – _with_ room to spare! You won't even know I'm here dude!"

"I – I just – are you sure? I mean, you do realise I'm gay right?" Kurt stuttered.

"Uh – yeah dude, kinda obvious really." Puck responded with an eye roll as he stripped down to his boxers and climbed into the bed despite Kurt's protests. "Are you going to get in or stand there all night? You should just be glad I was wearing my boxers this morning, I'm typically commando. You know you want some of Puckzilla!" Puck was clearly living up to the mischievous roots of his self-proclaimed nickname, as he was being rather _Puckish_ in teasing Kurt.

Kurt grabbed a pair of sweats, deciding that discretion was the better part of valour, and changed in the bathroom before shyly sliding into the bed. He immediately curled up on his side as far away from Puck as possible.

"You do know I won't bite you right?" Puck teased with a small chuckle.

"Y-yeah," Kurt squeaked, clearing his throat he tried again. "It's just that, well – I thought you would be uncomfortable sharing a bed with me."

"Why? It's not like you are going to molest me, and even I know you can't catch the _gay_." Puck asked sleepily.

"No I know that, but I didn't think you would know that." Kurt admitted.

"You are really weird, you know that? Anyway – night Kurt."

"Night Noah." Kurt whispered back, still trying to process that he was sharing his brand new bed on the first night in it, in the new house, with straighter than straight Noah the 'sex-shark' Puckerman. With a small sigh, Kurt snuggled down into the Egyptian cotton and relaxed into the soft bedding.

The next thing Kurt remembered, it was morning, and he woke up with his heart thumping, as he tried to get his bearings in this unfamiliar place. It was then that he realised that he was not only tangled up in his lovely sheets, but that there was a very warm body currently entangled with his. A large tanned forearm was trapped against his chest and he wasn't sure if it was the weight or the unfamiliarity of it that was restricting his breathing.

Risking a quick peek over his shoulder Kurt saw that it was Noah and everything that had happened the day before fell into place. Just as he realized why Noah was wrapped like a boa constrictor around him, he heard a deep moan as the larger boy shifted closer behind him, with something very large and very hard grinding against the small of his back. With an embarrassed yelp, Kurt tried to wriggle free of Noah's grasp, which caused an immediate groan from the mohawked teen, as Kurt's body pushed against Noah. Thankfully his insane flailing woke the sleeping teen as Kurt continued in his struggle to untangle himself from the sheets.

In a desperate bid for freedom Kurt even tried to roll off the edge of the bed, but only succeeded in cocooning not only himself, but now Puck too into the bed sheets. The pair of teens hit the ground hard with Puck wrapped up tightly landing on top of Kurt's back, causing the normally pale teen to flush red with embarrassment.

"Uh, Noah could you get off me please?" Kurt gasped.

"Dude, what the hell was that all about?" Puck asked as he tried to free himself from the tangle.

"You just startled me is all—it's not like I normally have crazy octopus people in my bed!" Kurt responded trying to unravel the sheets from around them.

"This isn't working, hang on." Puck using his 'guns' as he affectionately named his biceps, hauled both of them up into kneeling position, effectively making the moment even more awkward. "We stand up at the same time and _then_ we can unravel the sheet, got it?" he asked.

Kurt nodded his head and tried to get his feet back under him as Puck tried to stand as well. After managing to get upright, Kurt began searching for the end of the sheet to unwind them from their makeshift bindings. Just as he found the edge of the top sheet, he over balanced and purely out of reflex he grabbed onto something to steady himself. Unfortunately that _something_ turned out to be Noah who lost his balance when Kurt grabbed him. Kurt barely had time to say 'Oh Shit!' as they both plummeted face first towards the floor.

Closing his eyes against the image of the floor rising up to greet his delicate face, Kurt felt that strange swooping sensation he had experienced in the shower earlier in the week, but this time it didn't go away and it was accompanied by a harsh coldness that soaked right into his bones. Before he could even reopen his eyes, Kurt felt himself land with a thud, barely getting the chance to take a quick breath before another heavy thud fell on top of him with a groan.

Kurt carefully took stock of himself and determined that there were no physical injuries, well unless you counted potentially crushed ribs because some heavy muscle-bound philistine decided to fall on him. Taking as deep a breath as possible with the additional weight of Noah pressing his ribcage into his spine, Kurt's senses were immediately assaulted with the smell of freshly cut grass, which was strange – his room was scented with Sandalwood incense. Opening his eyes, Kurt saw he was face to face with the emerald green of turf; before he could voice his confusion though, Puck's voice made his blood run cold.

"Ah – Dorothy, I don't think we're in Lima anymore..."

**Dun, dun, dun! Yes, _finally_ we are getting to the good stuff! I've also included a table of key dates below for anyone who found the timeline confusing - to the best of my knowledge, schools in Ohio let out at the end of May for the school year, so everything has been based on that.**

**Props for anyone who spots the significance of the date. :)**

**As always -**

**Love it? Hate it? Review and let me know why!**

**Mischievous Gleek**

Important Dates:

_Monday 3rd May – Day of attack/Kurt admitted to the hospital_

_Thursday 7th May – Kurt wakes up from coma_

_Saturday 9th May – Puck assigned Kurt's mentor_

_Friday 14th May – Kurt leaves hospital_

_Sat-Sun 22nd & 23rd May – Move into new home_


	8. Author's Apology

**Author Apologies**

Hello all my lovely readers! First of all – yes I am still alive and _no_ I haven't abandoned this fic.

I actually aggravated an old basketball injury in my knee – I won't bore you with all the medical jargon, but basically my knee is twisted and had fluid pressing inside of the kneecap, so for the past couple of weeks (years it feels like) I have quite literally been laid up. I'm incredibly sensitive to pain medication and so even taking not so strong stuff either knocks me out or makes a just a teeny bit loopy (that unfortunate incident at work involving the swivelling desk chair mixed with codeine for a toothache shall never be spoken of again).

The only comfortable position I could be in without having to take pain meds honestly looks like it's from the 'advanced' section of the karma sutra and left me with only one hand free to try and type with (Oh get you're filthy minds out of the gutters! :P)

So either I've literally not been in a position OR I've not been in the right frame of mind to write anything for a while – I'm fairly certain that had I tried my drug-induced imaginations would probably have led to Kurt marrying Quinn and Santana stealing Beth and running to Greenland to raise her by pack folk dancing kangaroos…. Which while being a _fantastic_ plot bunny in itself, it just doesn't quite seem to fit the direction I had planned for this story…

My Point Being – I'm Sorry!

Today is the first day I've been able to actually get up and down stairs with only minor discomfort and without the fear of falling and breaking my neck and ultimately – that means I am on the mend! I'd do a happy dance but I fear I'd just set myself back again!

I am currently trying to finish the chapter for I Promise that I had started and I have the outline for Don't Trip already ready to go. I hope to be able to get at least a chapter for each story out _before_ Christmas BUT – please be patient, I am still on the mend and now that my mind is getting clearer thanks to the less frequent indulgences in codeine, it is frighteningly apparent that I only have 10 days till Christmas and only ONE present purchased! Not to mention a house to clean and groceries to buy in preparation for the influx of extended family members coming over!

For those who've stuck with this monstrosity of an Apology – Thank You! For the many people who have sent me messages I hope that this note answers all your questions.

I am and forever will be humbled by the overwhelming response to my stories – It is not in my nature to abandon a story half-way through (massive pet peeve of mine!) – and so I ask that you have a little more patience with me – the next chapters are coming very soon!

**Thank You!**

(I am aware this is not the correct procedure for an A/N – I will replace this with the next chapter as soon as it's ready to be published.)


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